


We Transpire, Blood And Fire

by cherishiggy



Series: Incense And Iron [1]
Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood Drinking, Fluff, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mild Gore, SiP, Strangers to Lovers, Vampire Bites, Vampire Lio, Werewolf Galo, and hence, fashionably late to this au with a thermos full of homemade chai latte, mental trauma, so do be careful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22091713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherishiggy/pseuds/cherishiggy
Summary: Dear Lord, it really has been a while since he fed, hasn't it.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Series: Incense And Iron [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593919
Comments: 18
Kudos: 164





	We Transpire, Blood And Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Self-indulging myself with cheesy, simple and predictable fics and most basic of worldbuildings if you can even call it that, hooray!
> 
> It took me soooo long to write this despite prioritising it over playing a cool metroidvania, Blasphemous, drawing, and a couple of other fics in the works. Ah yes, it's all coming together.
> 
> Also, this is my first fic of such length and with a semblance of a storyline to boot, so it might trip over its legs a little and in general be a mess.
> 
> At first I went, "okay, choosing a name for a vampire/werewolf fic, hard mode: no Powerwolf lyrics and no "blood" in the title". And then I did both in spite of the self-imposed restrictions, the absolute madman. ...Anyways, yeah, the line is from Powerwolf's [All We Need Is Blood](https://youtu.be/Ic4oH4iK6j4). Their songs are wonderfully heavy and melodic, all about religion, crusades, legends of the spawns of the night, blood sacrifices and other sorts of dark themes. Somewhat fitting and metal as fuck! I've been basically living and breathing their songs as I was writing this fic.

Dear Lord, it really has been a while since he fed, hasn't it.

Lio's hands went almost transparent about a day ago, blue criss-crosses and threads of arteries visible through paper-thin skin. Throughout this evening his heart began beating at a slower rate, all because he decided to abandon the need to feed just for another day, just for one more. And for what, to have more uninterrupted time to himself to learn the magicks the humans were able to discover while he was asleep? That is a pretty honorable idea, if a little reckless, and now he took the brunt of his decision.

Oh.

Now his limbs began to tremble lightly. Well, this isn't good.

Lio curses his lack of foresight, he is old enough to know that some stale blood from a saved-up, perhaps stored in the cellar body of an animal, its decomposition process greatly slowed down from the cold, will do to keep him on his legs to later get more blood from a freshly-killed one, or, if he is lucky, even a couple of gulps from a human. Damn his overconfidence.

Sighing and racking up the options, Lio ruffles his fringe. The cold metal of the nail armor on his scalp soothes the bubbling panic if only temporarily.

Catching an animal would be easy were he to have access to turning, but the transformations take up a lot of energy, much more that he's willing to risk right now. Going hunting in the present form has a lot of risks, so he'd rather not peruse the option until necessary.

Waiting for an animal to wander close enough to his castle or setting up snares it is.

Lio sighs again, this sigh's much throatier and is drenched in the dread that came with the realization he'll have to get through this night and later sleep on an almost empty stomach.

Well, no use crying over spilled milk. Lio returns to reading after shuffling the logs in the fireplace and moving his chair closer to it. He has to keep an eye on his body temperature, it can drop extremely low if he's starving, especially at nights.

He'd still have to practice what the book in his hands preaches. Every once in a while, in about half a century or so, Lio has to renew his skills and add to them what new spells the humans discovered. Quick little creatures. He could never be sure in his safety, a well-aimed ash bolt purified by a virgin maiden's prayers and holy water could be the end of him just as well as it was the end for many of his kin. So some fire magic mixed in with his quick as a viper's bite reaction speed, trusty sword, and sharp teeth raise his chances of survival if he happens to go astray while hunting for fresh blood.

Suddenly, Lio's ears catch a faraway sound of a door knocker smacking against the soaked oak of the door. He is on his feet and storming off in that direction in an instant, sword in hand and bare. It could be another vampire that has sensed his weakness, and he'd face the possibility head-on than allow the possibility of the intruder letting themselves in and lurk in his home and _hunt_ him. The mere thought of that scenario is humiliating; he would rather be slain in a fair duel than become prey.

Breathe in, breathe out. He doesn't have anything to lose.

The door lock squeaks under his hands, the next moment, the wind is whipping all around him and billowing out his cloak.

What Lio finds on the other side of the door certainly isn't what he expected.

Contrary to the prideful set of a vampire's squared shoulders, this figure's all huddled into itself, and it would probably prefer to be anywhere else but under the fall of razor-sharp raindrops. But Lio's not one to trust looks, so he doesn't relax his posture just yet and stays silent, waiting for the stranger to speak up first.

The stranger realizes what Lio's waiting for, and meeps: "Sir, it's freezing and raining cats and dogs, I'm afraid I won't be able to spend another night outside. May I spend this one at your place?"

The voice Lio hears most certainly belongs to a male, in the range of late teens to mid-twenties, and Lio doubts humans have changed that much during his latest slumber that his approximation is off the mark.

Definitely strong enough to leave Lio badly wounded before he is able to kill him.

But the way the stranger's hooded tunic clings to his rain-battered figure, just like Meis' and Gueira's did when they were on their own in the wild, still young, just the three of them against the whole world--

Oh, curse his empathetic, soft heart and put a stake through it.

"Come in. Quick, before I rethink my decision."

The figure darts past Lio faster than he can snap a rabbit's neck. Little drops of water are sprinkled every which way in the hall, though it isn't much of a worry, they will dry out by themselves on the tile floor, only Lio can't say the same for the stranger's soaked-through form.

"You may come to the fireplace with me to dry off a little," Lio says with a flick of his wrist, not sparing a glance at the stranger as he goes back to his study, "Fair warning and the only one you will receive - I happen to wield both a sword and fire magic fairly well," he adds with a wry, thin smile, going all out on the intimidation factor.

The stranger follows him closely, practically at his heels, leaving sopping sounds behind their backs and whipping his head this way and that, amazed by the grand architecture of this place. It is certainly a sight to behold, agrees Lio inwardly, with golden, if tattered by time tapestries, laconic small windows of stained glass and high ceilings. That's why he chose it as the place of his residence, after all.

This… stranger doesn't look like the sort to come in and slay all the residents. Instead, he has more of a lost traveler feel, Lio's instincts whisper to him. It's safe to let his guard down a little around the stranger.

Once they're both past the doorway of the study, the stranger goes straight for the fireplace and outstretches his hands to the tongues of fire with a sigh, legs sprawling on the cold tile floor. He must have had it really bad, thinks Lio, and grabs an extra wool blanket.

Lio curls the blanket around the stranger's shoulders and keeps the other one to himself. Even if soaked through to the last thread, pure wool never loses its ability to keep in heat and to give it back. So what if the stranger will get the blanket wet, Lio will just let it dry out later. For now, what matters is the comfort of this late-night guest, so long as he doesn't have any murderous intent in him.

Blanket unfolded and wrapped tight around his lithe form, Lio settles into the chair near the stranger warming his hands at the fireplace, book in hand and sword resting close. This is actually somewhat... idyllic. Lio hasn't had any guests here for a very, _very_ long time, so having someone sit by the fire with him while he's all cozy and reading a book stirs something deep in him. A warm feeling blooms under his sternum as he flips open the book and finds the bookmark sticking out from between the pages.

Suddenly, a question cuts open the silence blanketing the room.

"So, you a vampire?"

Lio blanches, digging into the blanket with his nail armor. He could've sworn he hid both sets of his canines under both lips, keeping them covered is so ingrained in his mannerisms that his true nature hasn't been discovered by a human in almost three centuries, so how the hell--

"Don't freak out. I can smell it soaking the castle through and through, sort of. None of the villagers had this scent, like when you rub a coin between your fingers for a while. Or the scent of fresh pig blood, when it's just been killed and you come into the butchery to buy the offal for soup. So it must be you who's the cause, and besides, no human smells like pure fresh blood and iron at all times."

Smell it? Curious. A werewolf in these lands?

Most of his instincts must be inhibited by the hunger, if not mostly extinguished. Well, you learn something new every day, this one isn't an exception.

Now that he thinks about it, Lio has been so high-strung and worried over getting backstabbed that he didn't bother to look over the parts of the stranger that revealed themselves in the warm glow of the fire. And indeed, on the stranger's head under the hood of the tunic were protrusions that looked much like ears, and his fingernails were way too dagger-like to possibly belong to a human. Lio is sure that, somewhere under the folds of the cloak, a tail lay on the tiles of the floor. He probably didn't fully transform back just yet as a precautionary measure in case he needed to switch back into a wolf.

More to fill the silence than to confirm his conclusion, Lio murmurs, "So, a werewolf."

The stranger jolts, buries himself up to his head in the blanket. Hesitates, or even gets a little scared. Lio isn't sure of what just yet.

"Yup, I'm the same as you. Child of the night, vermin, demon spawn, whatever everyone likes to call us."

Even more curiosity welled up in Lio. "So how come you ended up in this deserted part of the forest, and in a storm, no less? Werewolves usually live in groups of several families and are highly protective of their kin."

The stranger shrugs, hugs his knees with his arms, huddles deeper into the blanket enveloping him. It's now like a hooded cloak, carving deep shadows in his face. "Eh. It's a fairly long story. You sure you want to hear it?"

"I would not have asked otherwise, and we've got plenty of time." Lio couldn't stifle the little joke that jumps out of his mouth afterward, "It is only fair you would entertain me with your tales if for a little while since I provide you with shelter."

The stranger smiles at his attempt at humor. "Fair enough. Well then. Since you're gonna listen, I might as well introduce myself. Galo! Galo Thymos. Pleased to meetcha!" Galo outstretches his hand in a cheerful snap of limb but catches himself. "I would offer my hand, but it's still wet, and probably dirty to boot, so I'd rather not."

Lio politely answers, "Lio. The pleasure is all mine." He won't risk revealing his family name just yet, who knows what rumors might be attached to it. Wrinkling his nose, Lio adds, "Good call about that, I'll be glad to exchange handshakes once you're in a more dry and clean state."

Cups of fragrant rosehip tea sitting in their hands soon after, Galo curls near the foot of the fireplace, soft curves of his cheeks and his newly freed pointy ears illuminated by the lazily crackling flames.

After the silence stretched on to get into the territory of awkward, Galo scratches behind an ear, uneasy. "So, um. I'm not really a werewolf, just a half-breed. Not sure which one of my parents was what, but I know for a fact I was born and raised in the village. Everythin' in my life went well for a while. Plenty of friends, Aina always snuck little treats for me, training with Varys was one of the things I most looked forward to during the week, Remi whispered the psalms to me from the back pew when I forgot them, the contraptions Lucia and I made were a subject of envy of all the other village kids," Galo takes a sip of his tea, then another, and stays quiet for a moment. A painful memory coming up, perhaps, Lio thinks, and Galo needs some time to be able to retell it.

Throat softened by the warm acidic taste of the tea, Galo speaks on. "And then, yup, one night, unexpectedly, I turned, as you might've figured. Out of the blue, there was no indication. But then, what indication of my true nature would there be, if not turning? I had no way of knowing." A heavy sigh and Galo continues, "Stumbling out of my house in panic was a big mistake. My terrified growls and howls got half the village outta their bed and on their doorstep, the other half heard through the grapevine, and all of them certainly weren't happy with a werewolf in the middle of their haven. Wolfsbane did the job of holding me back until sunrise, and when I turned back, they, all the residents I've known and loved, gave me an ultimatum. Either I agree to be burned at the stake as the demon's spawn, or I get the hell out."

Lio barely holds back an aggravated sneer. Humans do fall low, but to excommunicate their brethren, even if only half, and at such a young age... The revelation boils his slow-moving blood, and he sets his jaw tight into the lip of the cup, fingers involuntary flexing in the wool blanket.

Oblivious to Lio's agitation, Galo keeps his gaze still on the dancing flames, continuing in a quiet, somber tone, "So, there I was, alone in the forest stretching as far as the eye could see past the village gates. Guys did sneak off to feed me a little, but I could tell they were afraid, they didn't know what I could do the next second. And rightfully so. Even I couldn't trust myself if my own body betrayed me in that way. One restless night I thought, hey, I probably should rid them of the danger of me turning again and doing irreparable damage. I did the right thing -- I left. A few tiring days of vagabonding, and that's how I got here."

Silence envelops the room again as Lio takes it all in and tries to think of a good response. Instead, he has an epiphany.

A reckless idea, but that sort of decisionmaking seems to be the running theme of this evening.

He doesn't know this stranger all that well and cannot be sure he is safe to be around. But Lio can't turn a blind eye to someone's misery, especially if it's in his power to help.

He'll see how this goes.

"While I, of course, offer my deepest condolences, I know no words are right for this situation and none would be able to patch the deep mental scar. So instead, I have an offer. If you could help me with sorting out the food matters and the occasional cleaning and visits to the local village, you may stay here for as long as needed."

Galo's loudly slurping his tea, his eyes are brimming with tears. Lio makes an impression of a pretty stubborn guy, so Galo doesn't try to dissuade him. When Galo unlatches his lips from the cup, his voice is still quiet, but full of budding hope. "I will try to help with as much as I can. I... Thank you, Lio."

Lio puts a reassuring hand on Galo's shoulder as they finish their tea in silence, and maybe it's just him, but it feels like the stony mass of the shoulder muscle relaxed a little underneath his palm and there is a glint of a smile for a split second.

The sun-dried jerky Lio has prepared out of the leftovers of his previous hunts just in case is their meager dinner. It's tough to chew and really, really salty, but Galo rips one strip to shreds and swallows the other jerky strip whole, not bothered by that at all, while Lio modestly bites into his own. He doesn't have to, but he likes to keep company. Afterward, Lio promises Galo he will have much better food to offer as soon as they visit the nearby village.

Lio shows Galo the bathroom, and Galo stares at the whole contraption in awe. "Only the church has this kind of luxury, to have its pipeline and stuff! How did ya manage to get a hold of this?"

"Secret," Lio holds a finger to his lips and smiles. Well, it came with the whole manor he now lives in, he didn't enter some sort of agreement or a blood pact with the church, God forbid. But it'll be more entertaining to tease Galo a little.

A crude block of soap and a fluffy towel, two toiletries starkly contrasting each other, were handed out to Galo by Lio, and Galo immediately stuffed his face into the soft fabric of the towel and rolled it around the skin there a little. So smooth... The block of soap smelled of herbs, of thyme, fresh rosemary and surprisingly, cinnamon bark.

"I'll be in the study, come back once you finish washing up. You do remember where the study is, right?" asks Lio.

"Yeah, I think. I should be good."

"Wonderful," smiles Lio, and he's out.

Or at least, he almost is, but as he is exiting the bathroom, he catches a glimpse of Galo's bare torso while closing the door. He immediately slams the door back open, worriedly coming so, so close to Galo and lowering on his knees to better assess the bright-red strips of burns strung taut all over Galo's body. Then, thinking twice of it, Lio jolts up, realizing what he's doing, "Oh, I'm so sorry for not asking permission first! May I look at your burns and see if I perhaps could use something on them to help them heal quicker?"

Galo's biting at his lip, thinking. He isn't sure that he would like for anyone to see those burns, they're almost a... shameful reminder of his rotten to the core essence. Best to forget about them and let them heal by themselves, right?

But another look at those pale hands, so unlike a human's under close inspection, still resting on his side, right underneath the burns, makes Galo mentally shake his head at himself. Lio isn't one of his villagers that swatted at him with freshly-torn stalks of wolfsbane, he's just like him and won't see any purpose in harming him and hasn't shown any intent to. And, to add to that, Galo hasn't heard of a burn that healed smoothly untreated. So, perhaps it _would_ be better to let Lio check them, for his own sake.

Galo uncurls his shoulders, looking Lio straight in the eye, tone serious. "Go ahead."

A long sigh falls off of Lio's lips as if he's been holding his breath the entire time Galo was thinking Lio's offer over. "Okay. I'll try to be as gentle as possible, nonetheless, warn me if at any point my touch invokes pain."

After all that he went through not so long ago, that promise seemed almost unbelievable. But Galo tries to think rationally -- a person that allowed him to stay over and recover for as long as he needed probably wouldn't see any purpose in harming him any more than he already has been. And indeed, Lio's fingerpads are the softest cotton upon his burns, not prodding, not poking, just light caresses over their surface. After a few minutes of that, Lio comes to his conclusions and hums, lips pursed. Aw, come on, why not say it out loud, he's itching to know too! So Galo asks nonchalantly, "So, what's goin' on there?"

Lio just clicks his tongue, more creases crossing his forehead. "Nothing too good. Those are some nasty burns alright. Do you have any idea if they've used fresh wolfsbane or perhaps dried?"

"Definitely fresh," Galo replies as he begins to twirl around like a dog chasing its tail, trying to see what's going on his back, to no avail. Lio hums at his response and watches him flail for a little bit, the silliness of action smoothing the creases between his eyebrows a little, and then points to a small mirror, a leftover from the manor's previous owners.

As Galo inspects his wounds and whistles, Lio says, "I'm not that acquainted with half-werewolves' physique, but I hope that the treatments used on werewolves would work on you as well. If not, I have some connections that ought to bring some information on that matter back. We'll patch you up, I swear on it." And he goes up to Galo, trying to reassure him with a small smile.

Galo returns it twofold. Lio can't help but titter a little at that unbridled enthusiasm and wave his hand at him, "Shoo now. Take the bath, and then I'll treat and bandage the burns. I will be waiting in the study."

"Will do!" hears Lio the cheery response as he turns around and closes the door behind him.

The walk back after the bath is fairly cold, even in the plain white tunic and pants Lio has somehow procured and managed to sneak in. Figures, the whole building is astoundingly colossal, and Lio won't keep the fireplaces throughout all of it ablaze and well-fed with wood, instead, he focuses his efforts on keeping a single room warm whenever he's in it instead.

Galo tries to keep his stride as large as possible so as to minimize the time his bare soles are in contact with the cold floor. The soft plip-plop of his feet echoes throughout the massive corridors shrowded in the navy-dark shadows, and for the second time that night, Galo feels well and truly alone. To hell with the villagers, how could his own foster parents betray him in this way?! Galo's teeth involuntary set into his lower lip as his throat constricts with sorrow.

He has to change course for a few minutes and settle in a corner somewhere, he didn't care what that room was, what mattered is that in it he can gather himself and drive off the aching pain gnawing at his insides there. He's okay now. He won't let anyone hurt him. He doesn't need to return to the village, even if it hurts that his very own parents tossed him away like that. Clawing away the tears trying to well up in his eyes, Galo gets out of the chair he settled himself into to calm down and makes his way to Lio's study.

The thought of being a disgusting werewolf with putrid blood rolling in his veins doesn't wish to leave his mind. He can't rid himself of it.

Oh, how he wishes he could.

Though that thought pipes down a little, but doesn't snake away entirely when Galo enters the warmth of Lio's study. Lio smiles at him from his chair still positioned near the fireplace and beckons, book in hand and a jar of some sort in the other.

"Did the clothes fit you alright?"

"Yeah, but why do you even have them in the first place?" asks Galo, confused. And they even look broken in and somewhat worn.

"Ah. That's for a friend of mine that occasionally comes to visit. He just came by recently. Well, "recently" by our standards, it was a couple of months back. I hope you don't mind I gave them to you for some time."

Galo comes closer to Lio, his curiosity boiling up even more at that. "Not really, but... Friend?"

"M-hmm. Someone who's shared my hardships and helped me shoulder them, back in the day. A vampire, with hair like wisps of fire and a feisty temper."

Lio's eyes glaze over a little with the haze of reminiscence, and Galo waits it out, lets Lio take his time and see if he will elaborate or not. But Lio soon shakes his head and proffers the jar to Galo, abandoning that trail of the conversation entirely.

"But enough about that. Let's take care of your wounds." Lio screws the jar opens, lets Galo catch a whiff. Ew. Almost as gross as fish oil. Galo wrinkles his nose then inspects the mixture inside. Nondescript, some grassy bits inside. Well, it looks okay, at least, despite the smell...?

Lio, meanwhile, continues, a little amused by Galo's reaction, "Pay no mind to the smell, it won't stay on your skin and you won't smell like that for the rest of your life. Now, since most of the burns are on your back, would you like me to do this instead?"

Galo knits his eyebrows.

Well, why not.

"Sure, go ahead." His words are somewhat muffled by the tunic as he takes it off over his head, not seeing how Lio cringed at the sight of the injuries.

"The salve... I won't beat around the bush, it might hurt a little. You may grab me by the hand if it becomes too unbearable. It's right here, near your hip. Now, can I begin?"

Galo braces for the pain immediately, grasping at Lio's hand just in case, and grits out, "Let's get this over with."

It's as Lio said - the salve did hurt. The more of it is spread over his skin, the more it felt like the salve is actually fire eating away at it. Galo presumes this must have been what the witches burned at the stake alive must have felt at first, but then the burn becomes that sort of burn one feels from a particularly cold winter night, the fake heat that is present in every part of the body for some time after the walk across the snowfields. Galo's confused. And then the pain steps it up a notch, and it becomes too much, he can't even feel Lio's fingers on him anymore over this cacophony of burning skin--

Galo clutches at Lio's small hand with both of his own, unintentionally clawing at it, squeezing tightly as Lio continues distributing the mixture over the burns. Lio evenly grits out, voice high-strung from the pain that came with the scratches, "Galo, please, don't transform and hurt me, your nails have already extended into full-blown talons."

Galo almost jerks, panicked, but Lio holds his hands down, voice now getting an edge of steel to it. "Galo. Sh-h-h. Listen to me. Listen."

Eyes still blown wide, Galo stares at him like a deer caught in a bear trap, "Y-yeah. I'm listenin'."

"Good. Now, close your eyes. We can sit down if you'd like."

Galo's scared eyes snap shut, and he tugs at Lio's hands as he plops to the floor near the foot of the chair, the heat of the fireplace reassuring from the side. Lio follows the motion, seating himself across Galo and not letting go of his hands for a moment.

"Comfortable?"

A hum.

In a quiet tone, Lio continues, "Okay. I hope you are still with me. It has been a while since I have transformed myself," Galo sputters at that a little, must be surprised that yet another rumor turned out to be thinly-veiled truth, but Lio carries on, unperturbed, "but I hope this works for you as well. Helps you come back to your human self, since, as far as I understand, you still haven't gotten ahold of that quirk and thus your transformations are sporadic."

Galo hums again in response, face set into a serious rictus.

"Alright. Imagine yourself, part by part. Your cobalt strands of hair, square jaw, strong build. Thoroughly remember yourself part by part, remember what you see in the occasional passing glimpses into the mirror, remember how you first see yourself stirring under the blankets when you wake up. Remember how people around you usually describe you."

Rubbing an assuring thumb across Galo's knuckles, Lio peers into his concentrated face. He's chewing at his lip with still-sharp canines, his fingers are still adorned with claws. But, bit by bit, so slowly, at such a snail pace that it would be almost unnoticeable with a passing glance, Galo reverts to normal as Lio continues petting his hand and talks him through it.

Little by little, Galo's form shrinks a bit, his claws lighten, fine away into fingernails while the cobalt fur across his skin thins out. Lio continues murmuring something reassuring, holding his hands tight, you're doing great, Galo, so, so great, just a little more.

When Galo runs out of breath and the stubborn bead of sweat makes its way from his forehead and all the way to the tip of his nose, falling on Lio's hands, Galo snaps his eyes open. He breathes in with his full chest, breathes out.

"Lio, I think I'm good. I think."

Lio just smiles in response, continuing gliding his fingers across the back of Galo's hand. "I know it may not be much, to hear this from a stranger you just met, but I'm proud of you. You did well."

That gets an unbelieving bark of laugh from Galo, "Say what?! You've been with me throughout so much shit that's happened to me this night, I'd say you're an acquaintance at the very least."

Lio just blinks at that, taken by surprise, and coughs, flattered.

The salve jar takes its place in Lio's hands again as he rubs the stinging paste into Galo's burns. Quiet settles across the room, but Galo feels it's long ago been set on fire and the fire is currently having a full-blown feast, or, perhaps it's just that he's clenching his teeth so hard he hears them clacking and grinding inside his head, the sound akin to how the wood crunches and collapses under the destructive power of the flames. Lio notes the harsh clench of Galo's jaw. He wipes one hand that has been working in tandem with the other and takes Galo's hand in his own to reassure him again. That works like a charm.

Galo still whines thinly as Lio continues rubbing the salve across his countless burns afterwards, and Lio tries to give him some room and not talk for a little while.

The surface of the wounds is dry, criss-crossed with cracks from how much Galo has been moving and some blisters are popped here and there which will make them that much harder to heal, and rage simmers up under Lio's skin again from a single look at this travesty. He is no stranger to feeling a kinship with a fellow creature of the night, and in this case especially so. And he can't help but feel righteous, in his opinion, sort of anger towards the cold-hearted villagers of Galo's that abandoned him at his most vulnerable. There were undoubtedly trinkets in that wretched place, the ones humans love to use to hold back one's wicked blood, that they could have parted with in order for Galo to keep living with them.

But, like a pack of sheep, they worried about the safety of their hides first and foremost.

Lio's fingers slip up and scratch at Galo's skin a little while tying the bandages firmly; Galo jolts and looks at Lio all confused as if to ask what's that all about.

Lio apologizes and says a few beats after, tone somber: "I have been just... Thinking of how vile that is. How vile that is to betray one when they need it the most."

Despite the vagueness of the statement, Galo immediately got what Lio was decrying.

"Well, hey, for what it's worth, there were ones that weren't scared of me even after all that. Aina, Varys, Remi, Lucia, the ones I told you about earlier. Or at least, they seemed not to be...? I'm not sure. But I wouldn't forgive myself if I ever harmed them, so it was better for me to be as farther away from them as possible. Better for them, too."

A touch of sadness slips into Lio's gaze. "Do you really think it is better for them that way?"

Galo jerks his head up to look him in the eye, features slowly twisting in a sneer, "Don't play dumb, of course! 'cause, hey, I'm a wretched werecreature!"

A pause.

"I don't think the fact that you're a werewolf makes you wretched. And all the other negative adjectives you've used to describe that side of yourself," says Lio, quiet. Serious. Staring Galo dead in the eye so that his words would carry even more of an impact.

That catches Galo off-guard. That isn't the response he thought he'd hear. He never had any acceptance of that part of his.

Suddenly, it's as if a pack of stray cats is clawing at his throat from the inside.

"I-I'm not sure what to say to that..." Galo's voice is clipped, forced. He looks away from Lio, the grip of his hands tightening around his ribcage and bandages.

Lio sighs. Places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Then you can not say anything at all."

Some time after, when Lio's just opened the room to the first room out of many to show Galo, Galo picks the first one immediately, not even needing to see all the others and consider his options.

"Hey, I'm not picky. I'll take anything you offer me," shrugs Galo at Lio's questioning gaze.

Lio's tone is easy as he speaks, "Alright. The bed cover's a little dusty as it hasn't seen use for a while. But the pillows should still be soft, and the mattress just as springy as it was way back when." Lio rounds the bed's corner, lifts the velvet bed cover and immediately sneezes. "Actually, no, that won't do. Let's shake the dust off of this, I should do at least that much for a guest of mine, and then I'll see if there is much left of the old sheets and pillow covers I had somewhere."

The sheets Lio finds after they dust off the bedcovers are in such a sorry state that it would be an offense to call them sheets anymore; the moths treated themselves to a fine dinner. Lio is affrighted and swears he'll buy something of more becoming condition for Galo tomorrow so that he won't have to sleep in tatters. Rubbing the back of his head, Galo profusely assures Lio that it's alright, having a roof over his head is more than enough, but Lio's having none of it, and a visit to the flea market to the nearest village is scheduled; Galo stifles a laugh in his fist all the while. It really is a night and day difference between Lio's collected usual self, or, well, what he's seen of it, and when he's so enthused about his well-being despite knowing him for just a smidge of a day.

That night, Lio doesn't keep his sword near the bed as he had originally intended to.

* * *

Morning comes with swipes and strokes of sunshine to his face through the drapes, thankfully merciful and only slightly tickling his skin with heat.

Out of habit, after taking some time to bask under the warm blankets, Lio trots to the balcony to breathe in the morning chill, the sunbeams not yet harsh enough to harm him. He passes by Galo's room and gets a passing glance through the crack in the open door. Galo's bed is empty...?

A wry smile warps Lio's lips. Oh, of course. Not that he's surprised by this turn of events, but it still stings somewhere deep down to see that Galo left for good.

Well, it is his decision to make and Lio has no right to stop him. Though at least he left somewhat patched up, that puts some honey in the overwhelming bitterness Lio feels.

Lio curls the sides of the nightgown tighter around his body as he comes out to greet the rising sun and the birds chirruping far off in the woods. Far below him, it's as if a layer of translucent, ephemeral honey spills over the darkness of the spruces, and soon enough there is a soft, golden glow stretching as far as the eye can see, mingling with the light fog and columns of prickly branches.

Just another nice morning, far less cloudy than yesterday. Lio enjoys the sunny days, the only downplay to them is that he has to cover himself head to toe with a cape and wear a hood to boot, otherwise the sun might burn his gentle skin. That is a small price to pay for seeing the flora and fauna thrive under the lively rays of warmth, though.

Warmth, huh... Galo's body felt a notch or two warmer than his when Lio touched it with the pads of his fingers, smearing salve and tightening the bandages.

No, Lio certainly would be the last person to be called easily developing attachment, his very nature disallows him that simple indulgence in his more human side. But he has grown a little fond of the half-werewolf over just half a day, like nurse would grow fond of the patient that might remind her of her lost love. Or rather, how one would grow attached to a member of their kin, that would be a more fitting analogy. There was something endearing to Galo, and this has been the first time in a while that Lio's life brought such a change to his feet; it was very unusual to hear not just his but a guest's voice ringing off the sculpted ceiling. Very unusual to worry not just about having his share of food, but about his guest having theirs as well. Very unusual to worry about someone else's state. So in that sense, Lio did get somewhat attached to Galo. Galo brought in some variety into his life, if only for a short evening.

But, ah. Galo's no longer here. Let him live on as a memory.

Just as Lio's changing gear by lazily thinking of setting up some snares to catch some fresh blood, he hears a clack at the front door. No, not a knock as was the case yesterday, this time it's a clack, just as the one as his door lock makes. Oh dear.

Lio is about to exit the balcony, hand at the hip palm up, primed, with fire ready to burst from his fingertips, but the door to the balcony opens and he stumbles into a warm chest and gets a faceful of it. The scent that's now enveloping him is unmistakable.

"Galo...?"

And then he sees that smile. That damn endearing smile surrounded by strands of cobalt hair.

"The one and only! You weren't too scared to sleep by your lonesome while I was catching food, were ya?"

Lio tosses a glance at Galo's hands crusted in semi-dry blood, and indeed, one of them is holding a dead hare, with the spine poking out a bit through the fur as if it has been strung up high when caught in a snare and had its neck broken.

Lio can't believe Galo hasn't truly left and instead chose to stay.

Lio could go off on a tangent about the fact that he's lived alone for so long that suddenly living in close proximity with another person is more of an unfamiliarity now, so sleeping "by his lonesome", as Galo put it, doesn't bother him in the slightest. Lio could be a stick in the mud and tell Galo that there are no bedroom monsters in his house, and if there are, they certainly are no match for him. But Lio doesn't do that. Instead, he rolls his eyes at Galo and plays along. "But of course, I plead you, stay with me and guard my bedchambers against the monsters, o fierce werewolf!" And Lio adds a melodramatic swoop of his arm to his forehead, the sleeve of his nightgown fluttering in the air with the movement, for further conviction.

Galo just full-on laughs, patting his shoulder with the palm that's less drenched in blood, "I can see that you surely must've been lonely without me if you promote me from a simple guest to a guard dog of your private chambers!"

Lio doesn't think of a smart retort and just sighs, "I sure have been, I sure have. I did get worried, seeing as how you left without a single word."

"Uh. Yeah, shoulda' thought of that and left, like, a note. Although I wasn't sure if you had any paper or birch bark and where to look for them, wouldn't want to dirty the walls with coal doodles scribbled on them."

Ah, Galo's endearing logic. "I could leave you some paper and a quill, you could write notes just in case, if you would like to. Or, wait, did you say doodle?"

"M-hmm. I can't write all that well. Most people say it's more of a chicken scratch than anything resembling recognizable handwriting, plus I can hardly write the simplest of sentences."

"Then you can leave doodles for me, I would find it a curious pastime to decipher them," answers Lio. After some thought, he adds, "I still should remember your written language fairly well, I could teach you a little if you'd like."

The sight of Galo beaming brightly is a treat. "I'd love to, actually! Lessons with Ignis were always great, so I think that should be the case with you as well!"

"Then I hope I live up to your expectations, Galo," bows Lio jokingly. The pale expanse of his chest slightly peeks out from the low cut of his nightgown, framed by the translucent lace.

Galo looks Lio over and coughs, "By the way, do you plan on changing out of your bedtime attire?"

"Oh. Yes, sorry about that. I'd gotten too used to the luxury of residing in this place alone," says Lio, embarrassed, and zips past Galo in the direction of the bedroom, or at least Galo presumes so. He hasn't gotten the hang of this place yet, just the path from his (his room) to the door and back as well as the one from the bathroom to Lio's study. Well, he will get used to it.

Not sure if he is supposed to follow Lio or not, Galo opts for the former so as to not to get lost. Lio's nightgown does cover up the most important bits, but it's still too much skin for Galo's modesty to handle, so he averts his eyes and tries his best not to look as Lio's firm thighs constrict and relax under the fluttering chiffony fabric while he walks.

Maybe vampires have concepts of modesty that differentiate from humans' ones?

Or, another likely contender, as Galo concludes when Lio comes out from his room in a simple, light shirt and takes the hare carcass from his hands, their fingers touching, is that vampires might have different body temperature regulation and therefore need less clothing or something. Lio's fingers are positively freezing.

As they make their way further through tangled, labyrinth-like corridors, Lio asks after a few moments of silence:

"Though, what-- food? Why, all of a sudden, and at crack of dawn?"

"Why not? I'm an early bird, 'n you know what they say - early bird gets the worm. We both probably need to eat, right?"

Oh... Lio blinked owlishly a couple of times, lost at the notion that someone cared about him in return. Vampires have needs differentiating from those of humans, but that is nice nonetheless, the fact that Galo already keeps his presumable needs in mind. "That... That is very sweet of you, Galo. Thank you."

"I went through the effort for myself as well, but hey, you're welcome!" Galo winks and rushes forward ahead of him in a burst of enthusiasm, forgetting that Lio's the one who's leading and ending up following him anyway, but with a spring to his step this time.

"So, Ignis. He is your Sunday school teacher, I presume? Are Sunday schools even a thing anymore?" inquires Lio, continuing their previous conversation.

"Huh?" blinks Galo, torn away from intensely examining how the sunlight streaming from the vivid stained windows intertwines with the tattered rug's pattern. "Ah, yeah. Right you are, he sure is! We're lucky he agreed to be one, now we're the only village in the radius of three hundred miles that has a school, how cool is that! Ignis is a good teacher, stern as all hell, but he does have a sweet spot in him. One time Lucia brought a mouse to the classroom, and Ignis heard her out and let the mouse stay over with her during the lessons."

Lio's gaze turns kind, nostalgic. "Then he is a lot like my father. He tutored me at home, and he knew when I needed a breather and when I could do a tiny bit better."

"Howzzat work, being home-tutored? Sounds pretty neat!"

"Indeed. It is a different kind of "neat", unlike studying in a classroom. Sometimes, mom helped father on those lessons, sometimes tutored me instead of him. We had plenty of books, and father loved joking of how I was practically born with one and as soon as I learned how to walk, they could not drag me out of there. So I learned everything on the fly, it was a pleasant pastime."

"That _does_ sound neat, don't get me wrong, but nothing beats Lucia sharing her apple with everyone while Varys tells about his newest project--"

Galo trails off mid-sentence to look at Lio's dreamy face, puzzled. "Your eyes must have found something in the middle distance, everything okay?"

Lio blinks, the dreamy look evaporating. "Ah, yes, of course. I'm just trying to imagine how your everyday life was- " He fiddles with the lacy neckline of his shirt, hesitates. Showing deep interest makes him feel vulnerable, like he's retreating from his shell of cold apathy. Becomes prey to lies and misdirection. But still, he suppresses this feeling. What better opportunity would there be to learn more about how human society operates from the inside if not talking about that with someone who has lived in it their whole life? So after a small pause of inner turmoil, Lio continues, "It's… curious, to hear how the human world operates, so differently from my own, as if it's a parallel reality. Do you mind telling me some more?"

"With great pleasure!"

Galo's gaze is unfocused as he retells the school stories, some peculiar, some bringing a short laugh to them both.

"Now, Remi. He is such a buzzkill and a tattletale but he's also good guy deep down, despite how many little pranks of ours he's botched up and uncovered. He means well, too, after all, he's the praepostor, Ignis trusts he'll have the ruckus taken care of in his absence. And Remi's managing that with flying colors."

Lio raises an eyebrow, "He's the same one who's been helping you cheat, right?"

Galo gasps, mock-offended, deflates and admits, "It's not cheating if it's jus' a little bit. He's got a rebellious streak in him, despite being a goody-two-shoes to his bone marrow. Remi can't help but try to help a pal in need."

"Were you the one who needed his so-called help the most?" slyly asks Lio.

Again, Galo is opening his mouth and closing it, scandalized. "I-- I would never, I am the best student, and my passion is burning for that and that alone! Besides, Varys hissed to Remi for a hint on the scripture readings the most, the blockhead. Physical stuff, like forging, is his forte, studying - not so much."

Lio doesn't say anything, just looks at him with a hint of smugness in his gaze like he wants to poke fun at him a little more, and Galo tries to redirect the flow of conversation. "So, um. Are ya always by your lonesome, or do you have friends? Acquaintances?"

"Plenty of acquaintances, but none are closer to me than the ones I tried to find my place in this life. I've told you about one of them."

Galo habitually moves forward, not noticing that Lio's stopped by one of the corridor doors.

"Galo, don't wander away, the kitchen's here! Come on, let's see how we can prepare this hare," yells Lio, his voice running through the halls and vast rooms.

"Hey, that rhymes!" yells Galo back as he turns around and catches up to Lio.

"Oh," Lio says in surprise. "It sure does. Prepare, hare…"

"Square!" helpfully adds Galo.

"Square?" repeats Lio dully.

"Yeah! Y'know, the rhyming game and stuff. Wanna give it a shot?"

"Sure. Prepare the hare that has been caught square in the snare right from its lair. Well, it should be "squarely" but since we don't have anything else, for now, we'll leave it at that."

"You've found another couple of good words but hey, are ya giving up a challenge so easily?" chides Galo jokingly, and they're at it again, trying to find a more fitting rhyme, bickering when they aren't silent in tedious pursuit of the same-sounding words.

Their minds put to a cause, they continue the ridiculous game of rhyming while both standing in the kitchen's doorframe until Galo is somewhat satisfied with the sentence that they make in the end, the "square" tribulation long put aside by him. In the end, they don't find a replacement for the damned word and both quietly agree to forget about it altogether.

Lio pinches the bridge of his nose. This is much harder than he gave the game credit for. "It didn't care for the news of the snare and thus was caught straight from its lair so we will prepare it in the cookware. There, happy, Galo?"

The sight of Galo beaming, crow's feet stark around his eyes is a reward that's more than enough to make the silly game worthwhile to Lio.

"Yep! That was my and my friends' favorite game way back when, and we occasionally played it when we had some time to spare. Lucia hated the ones that were based purely on luck, like heads or tails, so we collectively chose words; unbeknownst to us Lucia's active vocabulary was a beast. But we were all so stubborn, we just entertained her for a while, and in the end, every one of us was proficient in the tricky art of rhyming."

"Did that discourage Lucia from playing that game because she couldn't win as easily?" tittered Lio.

"Nah, no way. She's short so she makes it up with her stubbornness in spades. She was glad she's finally found worthy opponents, and not one, but four! Lucia's the kinda person to enjoy a challenge."

"You seem to fit the category nicely yourself," says Lio as they finally move from the doorway enter the kitchen.

"Oh, I sure am! You shoulda seen our training spars with Varys. Sparks flying every which way, sweat streaming down our bodies, like, woah! That guy is no pushover," Galo sticks his nose high up in the air and clenches a fist. Cute.

The kitchen meets them with dusty, musty decadence of a long-forgotten room that's suddenly been rediscovered by the new inhabitants.

Lio gets ruddy in the cheeks all of a sudden and swears the kitchen's in this state because he doesn't have to cook as often as humans do, and a simple skillet with a couple of kitchen utensils worked just fine for him, and he hasn't cooked in, oh dear, so long ago now that he thinks about it... Galo just chortles, tells him that it's alright, he doesn't have to sweat it, and with two pairs of hands, some time and a sprinkle of patience they clean a small portion of the kitchen, just enough to skin and cut up a hare and decide what to do with it. Oh, and cook breakfast and sit somewhere without unintentionally sitting ass-down on a spider settlement. That isn't fun.

Lio's movements are slow and graceful in the dissipated morning light, the one he enjoys the most for it doesn't harm him at all. When Lio raises an eyebrow at him, Galo comes to his senses and averts his eyes. He's been staring. Well, that's unusual for him.

They decide to cook some of the hare's meat with fresh vegetables from the village since they already plan on visiting it, they might as well indulge in the joys of visiting a market. But Lio still takes the honor of taking the first bite, so to speak, out of Galo's catch, while Galo is sitting by his side and finishes off the remnants of the sun-dried meat as a snack.

As Lio's shearing off a patch of fur on the hare's neck with a knife and feels out where its artery should be, Galo is watching him intently, with an almost exploratory interest. Lio isn't used to this degree of engrossment in his routine actions such as feeding, but oh well. He doesn't mind if Galo wants to have an eyeful. He stabs his upper set of fangs right into the stilled artery with a quiet hum of satisfaction. Indeed, still warm, that soft warmth that's not quite the raging heat of a still-alive body, it's a day and night difference for a vampire that is able to feel those tiny differences in temperature. For other beings, not so much.

Galo stares at Lio's Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he laps up the lukewarm blood, breathes in the scent of death and flutters his eyelashes, savoring each gulp. Lio raises an eyebrow at him, prompting Galo to speak his mind.

Galo coughs, a tad bit embarrassed to talk about that, "I've jus' been thinking. Well, why don't ya go kill some pretty virgin girl in an alley and suck her dry?"

Lio closes his eyes again, exhales a heavy breath through his nose. He raises a finger, holds it up for a few seconds, nonverbally telling Galo that they'll talk about this as soon as he finishes.

So Galo sits on the bench, eyes not moving away for even a bit from the sight of Lio feeding. As the hare gets barely noticeably smaller, as if deflating at a slow pace, the color returns to Lio's cheeks and lips.

Galo isn't sure how other vampires feed, but to him, the way Lio does can only be described as "graceful". His gulps are slow and measured, like of one who's appreciating an aged bouquet of a fine vine, not a single drop slides past his lips.

Finally, Lio raises his head from the drained hare just as Galo's thoughts begin to drift away.

Galo jumps up at first, his mind still not quite back with him yet, instinctually scared, and the sight of Lio's bloodstained lips, red quickly beading all the way down his chin, is really not the one for faintest of minds. Lio blinks once, twice in confusion, then gets what that was all about.

"Sorry. I'm not used to anyone getting pale in the face because of the blood. Let me take care of that," murmurs Lio, genuinely apologetic.

He begins by licking off the stray droplets on his lips, gets with his fingers what he can't catch with his tongue and licks that off as well, dusts off his lap for no particular reason. Galo is observing with a cautious interest as Lio answers, continuing his post-feeding preening with a handkerchief.

"To answer your question, killing is not my style, just as much as taking blood from unwilling humans isn't."

Galo withers from that response, lowering his gaze to the ground, "I'm-- I'm sorry I ran to conclusions so quickly. It's just that, all those folktales portray you and your kin as ruthless and willing to go to any lengths for fresh food..."

"It's alright. Your prejudice is understandable, considering you didn't have any contact with a vampire before me and all you had to go by were old wives' tales," Lio reassures him with a small smile. "I have been doing fairly well, living off of that meal from around a year ago, and off of animal blood and human food, but every reserve tends to run dry, and mine is just about to come to an end. Soon, I will have to feed."

These words still ring in Galo's ears as they exit the castle to visit the village, even after he's helped Lio with cutting up the hare. How does that even work? Does Lio just find someone willing to give their blood to him in a midnight alley, or does he have an arrangement settled? How long does his need to feed can be kept in check before it goes out of control? Can it even go out of control, similar to how his werewolf side did? So many questions, and Galo's afraid Lio will get tired of him being an insatiable chatterbox. It's better to spread those questions out, to take them out one at a time like the tasty cloudberry candy that you can buy only once a year during Yuletide and have to eat just a little throughout the whole year for them to last.

Meanwhile, Lio comes to a stop, digging his heels into the ground, and Galo almost crashes into him, lost in thought and just mindlessly going forward. Before Galo can even ask what's the matter, wisps of Lio's blond mane whip upwards, even though there are no stray wind gusts to come play with them, and Galo can _smell_ magic in the air.

Lio turns into a golden wolf. It doesn't happen instantly, and Galo can't really pinpoint when there's more Lio than wolf in the amalgamation of bright light and when there's more wolf than Lio, only that his figure slowly morphs into a beautiful, glowing being, and as the glow fades, Galo's jaw is slack with amazement at the grace of the creature revealed under the light.

And then it, or rather, Lio, opens his eyes, and Galo wouldn't mistake that stark magenta for anything else.

Galo stares at Lio, trying to take all that in. Lio stares back, eyes holding the intelligence far surpassing that of a regular wolf. Lio loses the staring contest first, getting impatient. He points at Galo with his snout, then jerks it in the direction of his back.

Huh? "Do you want me to check your back for something?"

Lio cocks his head to the side as if to ask with a hint of humor in his tone if Galo's got any other ideas.

"Well, uh..." Galo has to think for a bit before he catches Lio's drift. "Do you seriously mean it, for me to get onto your back? I'm just-- what? Ride you like a horse? But you're a vampire, not a damn horse, the hell!"

Lio just stares at him again, gaze unwavering. With trepidation, Galo circles his side to throw a leg over the other side and straddle his back, but momentarily gets lost in the feeling of thick, glowing fur under his fingers. So warm... He can't help but lean his torso forward and rest his cheek on Lio's back, sapping some of Lio's warmth. For the life of him, Galo can't tell if it's magical warmth, like the residue from the transformation or something, or Lio's natural body temperature. He'd like to find out, someday.

While the rhythmical recoil from Lio's paws slamming into the ground and propelling them both forward shakes Galo's guts up something fierce, the soft golden glow under his cheek is reassuring and negating the nausea somewhat, and Galo can't help but wonder if Lio's hair is like this, too, poofy, fluffy to touch and comfortable to rest one's face in. He shifts his head a little so as to not make the action hard on his eyes, and looks at Lio's sharp-snouted head, bright and contrasted by the darkness of the deep pine woods. Something clenches in Galo's chest, and he decides not to dwell on it for long.

Dismounting the mass of fluff and muscle and danger that is a wolf is about as easy as mounting it - toss one leg off and you're good to go. Horses are much trickier creatures, Galo muses as he sits and looks at Lio transforming back just a little off from the outskirts of the village.

When the glow fades around Lio, he shakes off little bits and pieces of dirt from his cloak and beckons Galo, who's been sitting nearby, lost in his thoughts. With that, they reach the village on foot, just a measly mile or so, and go straight for the market, or at least where it should be, taking Lio's last visit into account.

Luckily, it hasn't been relocated at all.

It's as busy as Lio remembers it being a decade ago, children running around, shouts and whistles and pother all around them. Lio even remembers some of the salesmen and salesladies, now with creases around their eyes and age sapping away energy and life from their withered figures. That has Lio wondering, just for a second, if one day, inevitably, he becomes like that or if he just dissipates to ash and gets dusted over the graves of his ancestors by the wind. Hum. Gueira would laugh at him a little for bothering himself with such faraway moments of his life, and Meis would lightly swat at his shoulder. When they visit for the next time, Lio'd like to talk with them about that.

What they need here is some produce, and a bed set and some clothes for Galo. Simple enough. Lio has to preemptively stop Galo before he tries to wander off into the thick streams of people out and about, once that's done and over with, he unties the small gold coin-filled satchel from his belt and hands it to Galo, who's staring at him like he's some miracle worker.

Lio has to snap his fingers to get Galo's attention from the satchel back to himself. "Don't look at me like I pulled it out of thin air, I can't do that."

Galo's still flabbergasted as he slightly stumbles over his words, "B-But that's a lot of money, I can feel by the satchel's weight! The hell! I can't take all that, no way."

Oh, Lio would scoff as dramatically as he could, but he settles for a mild one instead. "You'd have to buy spare clothes instead of that ragged tunic you came in. And it really wouldn't hurt to sleep on better bedsheets, either," he reasons.

"Well, fair enough..."

"See? That wasn't so hard." Seeing that Galo's still unsure about something, Lio adds, "If you're worried about paying me back, you could catch a wild animal for me every once in a while and we're even."

Galo immediately perks up. "Sure, that works for me! I'll be sure to catch the fluffiest, plumpest hares you've ever seen, or I'm not fit to be called Galo Thymos!"

Lio smiles at his exclamation. "We have a deal, then. Now go buy whatever you like, and don't restrain yourself. Got it?"

"Will do! Though, it seems you'll be minding the business of your own while I'm gone. It's a busy place from what I've seen, and I don't know it all that well… Where do we meet afterwards?"

Ah. Indeed, Lio has gotten so used to knowing every nook and cranny of localities dated a decade ago like the back of his palm and not having to explain the intricacies of the places to Meis and Gueira, that he has forgotten what it's like, to visit something for the first time and not know where to go. Plus, those recollections are likely still correct since not a whole lot has changed from what he's seen. A conundrum.

The solution comes as easily as a snap of fingers.

"I wouldn't want you to get lost, so let's just meet at the gates. You do remember the way back to them, right?"

Galo smacks a fist in the center of his chest, "Hey, have a little more confidence in me! I'm not that much of a scatterbrain for the memories to jump out of my head as soon as they enter it, so of course, I do."

"I wanted to make sure. That friend, with the hair the color of a budding fireplace, has no sense of direction whatsoever, so our shared friend had to take responsibility and lead him back to the meeting spot. That's how it's always been, we go separate ways, me and the two of them, and join back the same way."

"Huh, I see…" Galo seems to be thinking really hard, then proclaims, "Y'know what, you can call them by their names! No need to be cryptic and stuff."

"Sure, if that works for you, then it works for me as well. The one with red locks is Gueira. Our shared friend is Meis, lanky, with a mane like a raven's wing stretched wide." Lio smiles involuntarily at the recollection. "I'll be sure to tell you more about my time with them if you'd like. But for now, you should go."

Galo snaps back, jolly as ever, "Yessir!" and runs off.

With that, Lio heads off for the part of the market where he remembers the produce sellers previously resided. Previously as in around a couple of years back, Lio didn't visit it for refilling some of his necessities for quite some time. And now he was running short on lamp oil, ink, and a few other things. Lio mentally runs through the small list as he walks, and, to his immense relief, finds that the produce sellers are there, right where he remembers them being, the air thick with the scent of herbs.

A particularly round and adorable cabbage catches his eye as he passes by stalls and swerves in the occasional thick crowd, and he just cannot pass up such a wonderful green little lady, now can he? The saleslady sees that the cutie's caught Lio's interest and also offers him some radishes at a lowered price since that cabbage is her favorite as well.

Lio lets himself get roped into the purchase. He doesn't really mind, he quite likes radishes with some dill as a simple salad. Though, it isn't salad if it's just two ingredients. So he decides some cucumbers will be a great addition to the mix.

Lio sing-songs the name of each vegetable, lacing a simple dementia spell in-between the vowels. Nothing the saleslady should worry about, she won't forget her most valued customers' names or that the pumpkin the color of the rising sun, the cutest in the batch, has to be watered soon, no. She'll just forget the youthful-looking man standing before her, after all, it wouldn't do both of them good if she recognizes him ten years after and realizes he hasn't changed one bit, now would it?

One arm full of the fresh vegetable bundles tied with rope and covered with a piece of cloth, Lio goes ahead to finish off buying the rest of his necessities, curling the hood tighter around his head. Passing off as a traveler in his long, draping cloak with his face almost fully covered in shadow is to his advantage, this way he passes off as a traveler who's seen his fair share of the world, and thus there are way fewer villagers that might try to bother him. That suits him just fine.

Galo is already by the village gates with a basketful of purchases, and as Lio approaches him at a leisurely pace, Galo snaps out of his thoughts and waves to him, elated.

"Lio, just take a look at what I found!" Galo proffers him a couple of unbedizened tunics with the excitement equal if not surpassing that of a puppy. It's viral, this straightforward joy over the simplest of things, and soon enough, when they are out of the village for a safe distance, Lio is playfully jumping across forest roots and slamming his paws in the occasional sun-streaked puddle, showering them both in droplets, while Galo holds on for dear life.

Galo yells, joyful, over the hiss of the wind, face right next to Lio's golden ear, "What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"

Lio gives him an affectionate little howl, and bolts even faster through the forest akin to a bright flash of light. Galo grips Lio's sides tighter with his shins and laughs in delight as they make their way back faster than before with what feels like the speed of or surpassing that of sound itself.

After that thrilling ride, Galo's legs are like jelly and he's surprised his hold both on Lio's sides and on the basket with his new belongings and Lio's purchases did not betray him. He is shaking slightly as he dismounts Lio, and in an instant, Lio turns, not spending a second for tittivating in the captivating golden glow. His arms are steadfast as he supports Galo, holds him uptight, walking them back to Galo's room through the vast corridors with a sure-footed gait.

As Galo sets his new clothes into a cupboard, happily chattering away and keeping the door of his room open so that Lio will be able to hear him from the kitchen, Lio is chopping up the simple salad, the eggs already simmering in the water on the stovetop.

It has been a while since he had to cook, too.

Well, getting used to Galo living with him sure is going to be interesting. Lio looks forward to it.

* * *

A day flows into a couple of days, a couple of days flow into a week, and now Galo's somewhat of a permanent resident of his castle.

Slowly but surely, Lio gets to know Galo more as time passes.

They've sorted out the admittedly flexible schedule of who's hunting, and whenever Galo gets something extra good, a particularly fat hare plumped up on generous offerings of summer, or an adolescent deer, and announced his comeback, half-transformed, sneaking into Lio's study and dripping blood over the tiles, his cobalt-blue tail _wagged_.

One time, Lio decided to shed some light on the mystery and ask, "Why is your tail doing that?"

Galo's face scrunches in confusion. "Eh? Doin' what?"

Lio goes around him, sits back on his haunches and nods at the tail, almost nonchalantly if it weren't for the slight raise of his eyebrows. "That." His hair ripples in pretty, rye field waves with every movement of his head, Galo notes.

Then he notes that his tail is indeed wagging when he finally tears himself away from observing Lio's hair.

Strange.

Just as he's thinking what would happen if he willed it to halt, it stilled. It came as naturally as curling all the fingers around a wooden spoon, as naturally as closing his eyes in a powerful sneeze. Lio chortles at the sheer amazement that is written across Galo's face.

"What, you never consciously used your tail as an extension of your will, so to speak?"

Galo doesn't answer for some time, his attention is entirely engulfed by the curious, alien workings of his tail. It's quite fascinating to watch, as if Galo had found a never before used limb on his body - well, technically this analogy is correct, minus the fine motor skills that, say, a hand could offer - and is just now learning how to use it. So Lio catches himself in time. "It would make sense if you didn't. I had so gotten used to my kind being the only surrounding that I had by proxy assumed you had learned that matter-of-course. That's silly of me, sorry."

"Sheesh, you and your vampire friends," shakes Galo his head, not unkindly, eyes still glued to the appendage. "So, how do I… use it? The tail?"

"Just do what comes naturally. Let your reflexes and instincts take over for some time. Just like your body operates your heart, expands your lungs all by itself. Let it do the same here."

"Yup! That I can do."

His tail wags again as a chipper underline of his words.

"Well, would you look at that! You've got the hang of it already." laughs Lio. "You are indeed a great student. Good, good boy," he coos, and pets him on his head, standing on the tips of his toes.

That was nice. Galo didn't even want to ask, what, does he look like a dog or something; he just melts into the casual affection with his eyes closed, tail continuing to cheerfully slap against his thighs.

* * *

Lio doesn't have to sleep much, a few hours a week, six or seven if he's feeling extra groggy, or sick, or recovering from a wound does the job. However, when Lio did sleep for a while, for a normal, _human_ amount of time for the first time after sheltering Galo, he made a discovery - Galo snores in his sleep; really, really loudly with some animalistic growls and whines mixed in if it's a particularly nasty dream, Lio heard it all the way from the other room. Lio stuffed a pillow over his other ear, the swan feathers and the barrier of fabric almost airtight against it, and managed to fall back asleep. That works well in the future, too, or it might be the fact that Lio's a tight sleeper that's playing into this. Lio's just happy he doesn't have to do anything about Galo's snores and keep the sleeping arrangements as they are.

* * *

Some of the evenings turned nights they spend together in front of the fireplace, with Galo comfortably bundled in a wool blanket on the floor, leaning his head on Lio's legs and his eyes looking into the dancing fires and Lio sitting in his beloved chair and reading a book, sometimes continuing that one about human magic, sometimes a book on human philosophy, sometimes one containing human folklore.

On one of those nights, Galo looks Lio's in the face and asks, "Hey, whatcha reading?"

Lio blinks for a second, returning his mind back to the present. It takes him a little more, around a few milliseconds longer than usual if Lio's calculations are right, to answer. "A human folklore book. Just some light reading before bedtime."

"Huh. I would have asked if I may take something from your library, but I can't read. Dunno if that's a good or a bad thing." Galo looks somewhat deflated, though. Not being able to read is considered boorish by the townsfolk, that prejudice must have laced itself into Galo's psyche unbeknownst to him.

Lio hums, knowing how to cheer Galo right up. "You can go and find a book with a lot of pictures in the library if you'd like. I'm pretty sure I had some."

"What, really?!" Not even waiting for an answer, with an excited yelp, Galo jumps to his feet and takes off in the direction of the library. God, what a doofus, Lio thinks fondly.

He was going to answer Galo that yes, really, this is as much Galo's home as it is his, so it's only fair Galo has access to their library, too, but the moment has been lost.

This is the exact kind of ruckus and hustle and helter-skelter he didn't realize he needed until it was happening all around him.

After half an hour of muffled phrases and word leftovers Lio overhears coming from the corridor connecting the study and the library, Galo triumphantly returns with a book in hand, dust in his hair and smelling of musty, old tomes. Lio looks him over with a smile and asks, "So, how did it go?"

With the look of a bloodhound fresh from the most successful hunt of its life, Galo settles on the floor and immediately leans his back and head onto Lio's legs. "Great! Found a book to my liking." And with that, Galo is content to continue spending their evening in silence, looking through the pictures of the book.

It takes him one evening to finish it that way.

Next time, when they're sitting near the fireplace again, Galo tilts up his head and asks, tugging at his sleeve, "Lio, you busy?"

Lio looks back from his book. "Hm-m? Nothing terribly important, why?"

"Well, it's just… I want to understand what little text there is in this book. So, would it be okay to ask you to read it for me?"

Lio breathes out a laugh, "But of course."

He remembers that book. Of course he does. Lio's species has an exceptional memory, and it is both a blessing and a curse. The tale book had been gifted to him by a choirgirl, with pigtails the color of roasted chestnuts. Her reasoning behind the gift was because he helped her wait evening after evening till her mom came and picked her up, though Lio didn't find his actions being out of the ordinary and deserving of any sort of reward. It wouldn't do for a young girl to stand alone outside the church, freezing, so it was second nature for Lio to help the small lady pass the time with small talk and silly games he made on the fly and warm scarves he "unintentionally" had with him. Her gratitude still radiated from the book all those years after.

The book is thick, weighty in his hands, with gravured ridges on the spine roughly poking at his fingers, and Lio isn't sure with which tale to start. He doesn't want to bother Galo since he looks almost asleep, comfortably tucked into the warm wool. Minus drooling into it, but that will come sooner rather than later, by the look of it. His eyelids slide closed every so often, but Galo snaps himself out of it half-heartedly. The coziness is getting to him.

Well, Lio wouldn't want to snap him out of it completely. He opts for choosing the oral repertoire for the night himself.

Just as he's opened the book and rustled through the few pages separating him from the glossary, Galo murmurs, not opening his eyes, "There should be a tale of the nun whose hair has grown dark, spiked just like bramble curls of a vicious bush and constantly hurt her. Thus her fellow sisters from the nunnery decided to bury her remnants separately, deeming her hair a devil's gift. It should be somewhere in the beginning."

Lio hums and rustles through the old pages of the book, this time towards the end of it. "You seem familiar with this one."

"Yeah. This is the book my adoptive ma read me stories from. Brings lotsa' memories," sighs Galo into Lio's blanket around his legs and cuddles further into it.

Lio's deep voice soon wafts across the air, luscious, and Galo involuntarily closes his eyes and almost falls asleep like that, sitting upright and getting lulled by Lio's quiet reading aloud. As his eyelids try to stick together with tears that welled in his eyes from yawning, Galo curls the comforter tighter around himself and squeezes further into Lio's legs. He was tall enough for his head to comfortably reach Lio's knees, he also lays it sideways onto them, which momentarily makes Lio stumble over his words, but not a second after one of his hands that has been propping up the book is instead tangled itself into Galo's messy cobalt hair.

Galo's almost _purring_ as Lio lightly sifts his strands through his fingers. The sharp tips of his nail armor occasionally catch at Galo's scalp, and Galo moves into the scratches, canoodles into the occasional slip-up, so much so that Lio looks down at him as if to ask, hey, what is it? Galo scratches himself onto Lio's stilled fingers, metal catching at the skin again, but not requesting Lio to scratch his scalp or anything. Lio sighs.

"You're so silly."

Lio takes the cue to take off his nail armor so as to not hurt Galo and bury his fingers in the unruly hair. He could feel Galo going boneless on his knees as hand gets to work, gaze still on the book and lips moving in time with his eyes running through the lines.

Dark images born from the tales of executioners announcing their family's names one by one, thieves' hands lusting after the forbidden being cut off, legendary smiths' swords, their creations, taking their lives fill Lio's head. Galo lies with his eyes closed, unperturbed; he heard those gory, mortifying tales hundreds if not thousands of times, another time won't make him restless for the night. Or perhaps he's just that pacified by Lio's soft actions.

On the fourth tale, Lio's throat begins to get scratchy, and, as luck would have it, he did not make any rosehip tea beforehand. A break for a nice, steaming cup is in order, Lio concludes. But here's the thing.

Galo's fast asleep on his knees, Lio's hand still lightly carding through his hair. His large arms are sprawled about, flopped to the floor as soon as their owner lost control of them. Despite his body being entirety pliant and in the state of sleep, Galo still easily pinned Lio to the chair.

Now, what to do…

Well, since Galo is asleep, he should continue his sleep in the bed. Lio wouldn't want him to wake up with dozens of kinks throughout his body.

Carefully snaking his fingers, then palms, then entire hands underneath Galo, he first dislodges his body, then lifts it in his hands. To him, Galo's body is as lightweight as a feather. So Lio brings Galo to his bed, his gait slow as he makes his way through the corridors with the least amount of sound possible, observing how Galo's nose scrunched in his sleep sometimes.

He's so calm, a polar opposite of what he's like awake. A shiver runs through Lio, feeling like it's too intimate to see this other side of someone, when they're at their most vulnerable. They say a person has many masks and seeing a sleeping person's face is like witnessing one of it, the closest to the core of true personality.

Lio flicks off stray hair from Galo's forehead when he lowers him to bed and tucks him in, his touch feather-light. He presses a kiss to the forehead, it's warm like a blanket warmed up by another's body heat.

"Goodnight, Galo. Sleep well."

* * *

They continue scrubbing up the kitchen when they feel up to it, bit by bit, utensil by utensil, inch by inch. The process isn't anything too technical, more tedious than anything else; vast kingdoms of cobwebs, levels upon levels of dust, the sudden dead insect in the cupboard, all the aftermath of a long-ago used space.

That isn't to say Galo didn't enjoy cleaning. On the opposite, it was a delight to see the immediate result of his actions in his shining reflections on assorted surfaces, now more susceptible to the tiny explosions of light all across them. It's infectious, this simple joy of Galo's over the routine action of cleaning, and Lio can't help but feel just a little less groggy from his sleep, scrub the cupboards from their frosting of dust with a bit more flare than usual.

And then Lio starts _humming_. Melodically, with his eyes half-closed, in such a hushed tone that it seems like it is the wind out the window at first.

Galo smiles at that and tries to time his movements to the homely tune of Lio's little song, but often falls short, either making his next swipe of the kitchen table too early or removing another spiderweb too quickly. Well, half the fun's that it's not perfect, Galo reasons.

As Galo waves another tiny spider goodbye out the window, he sees movement close to his shoulder out of the corner of his eye.

It's Lio's hand. Lio is offering his hand to him. Galo can see the fragile tendons in it, haloed by the shy morning light.

Without much fanfare and thought behind it, Galo takes it.

Only after the action his brain catches up and wonders what's that all about.

His brain wonders no more when, resuming his humming, Lio puts an arm around his waist and begins the dance Galo had long ago forgotten. Or so he'd thought.

Just like breathing, like blinking, Galo moves in tandem with Lio to the simple tune of his hum. Thanks to all the existing and non-existent gods that he still remembers the steps. He wouldn't want to mess up the moment by screwing up, admitting he doesn't remember the waltz steps and continuously step on Lio's toes.

He shouldn't feel all tingly and nice. This is just a dance, just like those occasional practices for fun, with Aina leading him, and Lio is of his gender and he is his friend and-- and Lio's eyelashes are so much lighter than he thought and oh god.

Galo isn't one for details, never have been and probably never will be. He doesn't really have the patience for the stuff, though he enjoys staring at something occasionally, fastidiously memorizing every tiny bit. But now, it's as though that occasion happens every time he looks at Lio. The need to look, to observe, to memorize is always there whenever he is.

The time is passing like a rapid river, but strangely enough, Galo can feel everything. His senses are honed with Lio near him, touching him, and Galo isn't overwhelmed. It's curious.

At the same time, it puzzles Galo.

He didn't stare at Aina like that, when she was in front of him and squeezing her small hand into his, steadily held him by the waist. He didn't stare at Remi like that, when there has been an occasional moment of quiet in the class on the lesson and he chewed at his lip, deep in his thoughts and calculations. He didn't stare at Lucia like that, when she was hunched over a stack of papers and scribbling, scribbling frantically, eager to get her newest idea out. He didn't stare at Varys like that when he's just finished quenching one of his works and is wiping the sweat off his tanned arms.

Oh. Oh-h-h.

So that's what it's like.

_He is absolutely smitten. Head over heels. What the hell._

Lio is deaf to his inner panic, humming with closed eyes and almost sweeping Galo off his feet in both literal and figurative meaning without needing his eyesight. Galo's pretty sure his palms are sticky and gross because of being a permanent conduit for warmth whenever Lio is around, but either Lio doesn't notice or doesn't care, since he adjusts his hold, grips them tighter and continues.

Galo stares at Lio's plump cheeks, mellow line of his soft mouth and thinks, yeah. Lio is pretty, but now that he's actually analyzing his crush with a cool - okay, still-hot head, he is always a hothead - there is more to it than that. Lio's always eager to help out to the best of his abilities. His rare laughs are a quiet chime of silver bells. He is still so, so surprised when Galo shows his affection with the little ways he cares about him.

So selfless and kind-hearted.

It melts Galo's heart and makes it sing a simple tune of affection.

With a warm sigh, Galo squeezes Lio's hand tighter and moves in to press his forehead against Lio's fondly. He presses it against Lio's fringe instead, but hey, it's the thought that counts and Galo is still basking in the simple contact.

Lio's eyes flutter open at that. He looks like an animal frozen in its tracks at that moment, both literally and figuratively since he has ceased the slow, simple waltz steps, and Galo for the life of him can't tell what that's all about. Lio makes an indescribable sound, a tiny befuddled thing, and jerks away in a rush. He hides his face in his palms from embarrassment, and the tips of his ears peeking out from his bangs are flushed red. Galo finds that both endearing and confusing, as if hiding his face away is going to do anything, like make him disappear and a bunny pop up in his place instead.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I'm not sure what came across me. Old habits must have overtaken me for a bit, what with us twirling around each other and whatnot." And Lio quickly turns away, getting a sudden newfound interest in polishing a handle of a drawer that has already been previously cleaned up fairly well by him.

Huh.

* * *

Galo's jumping across the tiles on the floor, trying to play a little game with himself and manage to travel to the ones that are just about out of the reach of his jump, the carcass of today's catch held tight in his hands.

Lio smiles at all these shenanigans, trailing a little behind and letting Galo lead their little morning trip to the kitchen.

As the hare's paws gently swing in the air, tiny dents that had been welling up with now dried out blood come into view. What an unconventional method of hunting for Galo. Lio is intrigued.

"Say, I saw bite marks resembling a maw on the hare. Did you...?"

Galo's leg falls back to the floor just as it is about to be swung to the next tile. His snappiness is evaporating immediately, he huddles in on himself all of a sudden, shoulders slacked and drawn around his ribcage, trying to make an impression of an impregnable chestnut shell covering the tender, sensitive core.

A simple question shouldn't shake him up so deep. It really shouldn't. But because of it, his throat is strung tight, tying itself into nautical knots. Just thinking of this newfound and unwanted curse running through his veins brings him to tears.

He's different from humans, though he is one of them, too! He won't ever bring himself to harm them!

...Right?

"Hey, Galo. Galo?" Lio's alarmed voice rings throughout the corridors. He's no stranger to reading body language, and something isn't right with Galo here.

Galo's voice is raspy, burdened by inner conflict as he replies, "Yeah. I hunted like that and barely managed to come back to my normal form." Then Galo freezes in place entirely, and there's a tremble to his voice. "I... I'm scared of what might've happened were I not to be able to do that, Lio."

Lio understands that he hit a sore spot immediately, and so he steps closer to Galo, outstretching his hand. Galo peers at it with bleary eyes and, not thinking twice, takes it into his. Lio sighs at that. "But in the end, you managed to do it. You did transform back, just as you did yesterday."

Galo grits out from his tightened throat, "I did, but…" His hold on Lio's hand turns white-knuckled, if Lio was not a vampire, a sickening crackle would ring across the halls.

"And you did not go on a rampage in the village. You held back the beast. And that should amount to something, shouldn't it? You did well in these situations. That's what matters." Lio squeezes his hand back, contrasting Galo's harsh hold with a soothing ripple of his fingers across the back of Galo's palm.

Something in these words struck Galo deep. He heard them loud and clear, and the realization flitting into his mind from them him like a bolt of lightning, sobering with its truthfulness. Clutching at Lio's hand as if it were a lifeline, he crumples to the floor, hare falling beside them. Lio moves away a little bit, giving him some space, quiet, but still not relaxing his hold. Galo tugs him closer by his hand, sniffling. Now right next to Galo, Lio's clutching at his hand and offering a shoulder, and Galo stuffs his face straight into the fabric, wails muffled. Not a care in the world is in Lio's mind as he feels the slight wetness spreading across his clavicle, not a care for that, all of his attention is focused on Galo and Galo alone.

"Sh-h-h, Galo, it's okay. You're here, with me, and you are no longer in the village. I will protect you from any werehunters and wolfsbane. I will not let anyone or anything harm you, you hear?"

Something along the lines of "disgusting", "kill" comes out of Galo, entrapped in a disjointed sob. Lio's heart bleeds with empathy heavier at that. Oh, through how much Galo went, only to blame himself for all his hardships. A heart of gold, streaked with so many scars of self-flagellation, tainted with humanity's hatred towards those who differ.

How Galo still has that hope in them, any remnants of that blind trust is beyond Lio.

Inside of him, something clicks.

As Galo lays his heart bare to him, opens up to him, Lio is almost squashed by the sheer amount of _trust_ Galo places into him. Despite all the bitter events he's seen through, been a target of, he still has trust in people. Still has the ability to trust at all, hasn't lost it in the rapid river of humanity's acrid abhorrence that would happen to many in his place.

Recovering from such an incident isn't going to be easy for Galo. It isn't going to be easy for Lio to help him in those trying times, either. It is going to be hard and might take a few months. A few seasons. A few years. No trauma is easy to heal, he learned that the hard way. But Lio will see it through.

Lio swears, inwardly and outwardly, that he will help preserve that heart of gold. He will not let it be tattered further, he won't have Galo enduring anything else like what had happened in the village, ever.

The overwhelming need to protect Galo swells, ripples inside Lio as he hugs him back by the shoulders, sprawled on the floor. Tries to express even a smidgen of it, otherwise, he will surely suffocate if he doesn't let it out.

He has to lift Galo's tear-streaked face by the chin, look in his eyes. "You are not disgusting, Galo. You are yourself, precious and wonderful and so, so kind. Please, do not ever speak of yourself like-- like that." Lio's voice cracks at the end, I know it will be an arduous task, but I am here to prove you that you aren't any of those things you say of yourself." It's hard to combat the tears that, too, begin welling up in Lio's throat or nose or that might be something in his lungs that's rising to his trachea. Whatever it is, he tries his damnedest to not let it surge over him.

Instead, he squeezes Galo's shoulders tighter and promises in a whisper: "Or at least, if you don't think so, just believe my words. Believe what I think of you. And I will help you get through the aftermath, Galo. That's a promise."

Galo's answer is a whispered thanks and, for the first time in a while, there is a glimmer of hope in his limpid, red-streaked eyes.

* * *

Another discovery -- Galo's pretty good at haggling with the local salesladies. Not in the way Lio is, silver tongue and charm are certainly not Galo's forte by any means, but he is just so innocent and makes such convincing puppy eyes that Lio is sure are entirely unintentional that the salesladies are always smitten and sell Galo fresh vegetables and bone-white eggs with a good deal, some even add extra. Truly, a wonderful addition to his household, Lio thinks, cracking open the two additional eggs the saleslady gave Galo and finding a double yolk in one of them.

Yolks are the best part of sunny-side-up eggs, and double yolks especially so, in Lio's humble opinion.

He gives Galo an affectionate look over his spoonful of eggs and makes a mental note to thank him after they eat.

* * *

But the most interesting discovery of all is that Galo smells of wet fur, of dried, crushed juniper berries that taste almost like mint. Of animal musk. As Lio's touch shifts from gentle to a harsh press of the metal of his nail armor into Galo's cobalt fur, he gets a heady lungful of those scents that makes his head spin a little.

Lio is a heavy sleeper, but the second he hears deep growls from the outdoors one night, he scrambles out in a rush and crawls closer to the large figure curled on the grass on his knees, mantle dragging across the droplets of dew, reassuring, "See, Galo? You've almost fully turned, I can even smell the werewolf musk! Just a little more, you can tame the instinct, I believe in you!" After a particularly scared whine coming out of Galo's pink maw, Lio adds, "I am well-versed in the arts of self-defense and we set up some precautionary measures a little while ago in case the animal overtakes your reasoning, remember? It is going to be alright. Now come on. I'm here with you."

Putting a hand on Galo's half-hand half-paw gets him to relax somewhat, Lio notes, as Galo's nails finally curl into dark claws and cobalt strands of fur become denser throughout his body. Galo is scared, Galo is whining like a wounded dog, looking at him with those clear eyes. Galo isn't sure this would go well.

Lio understands that, that's why he agreed to help Galo through his second full-moon transformation in his life. Galo still has a lot of fears about that, about transforming into a horrifying beast once and for all, and Lio is eager to prove that won't happen. That this side of him, the beast, is just Galo, too. That it's an integral part of him, and he can control it. That in the end, it would all be all right and they will get through this together.

And he tells Galo exactly so, petting his paw all the while.

Lio feels the strands of muscle billow, unfold, regroup and do a thousand other things in a second that their language would be unfit to describe. Lio's palms rise with the growth of Galo's body, and Lio takes them off once letting the growth lead them upwards becomes too much and he would have to get up on his tiptoes to be able to keep his hands on the place they've been mere seconds ago.

Galo's throat is making inhumane noises, quarter-rasps, quarter-whines with the rest being indescribable sounds as his throat rearranges itself, stretches out. Lio blinks, and in the next moment Galo's charming mug has overgrown with fur and there's a sharp, sharp snout of an animal instead of his face.

Galo gives a sharp howl, the moon painting his face as a garish grimace full of teeth and danger.

But then he lowers his head, and it's Galo's eyes, smart, cheeky. Not tainted by the mist of the primal instincts. The same bright blue, except it glows in the moonlight.

A humongous hill of cobalt fur and claws and muscle mass is towering over him now, finally, and Lio is just so, so unreasonably glad that their preparations didn't go to waste and the transformation was successful that he jumps up and hugs Galo by his ribcage that he barely manages to reach. With a loud sound and lisps of countless grass blades, Galo is on the ground the next moment when Lio lets him go, baring his lighter-colored belly to Lio. What a doofus, Lio thinks as he sits down near him and gives him a noogie in the soft tummy. Galo wriggles under his fist, but Lio is unrelenting. His fault to baring his weakest point to number one enemy of bellies, Lio Fotia. Galo decides to use his hefty paw to squash Lio's hand under it, displaying his fangs in what looks like a smirk.

Oh, it is on.

Lio is straddling Galo's belly in a second, not bothering to maintain the uptight image of an ethereal creature with manners fit for a king at all and letting his inner child loose, softly headbutting Galo, scritching around his ears, fluffing up his fur against the direction of its growth, blowing cold mountain air on Galo's soft fingerpads and doing all sorts of things that make Galo yip in joy and his hackles rise. Galo, in turn, swats at Lio's shins with his tail, drools on Lio's hands whenever they get close to his maw, shimmies and snakes underneath Lio to make him lose the grip of his thighs a little.

When they're done roughhousing, Lio breathes out a happy sigh and lounges on Galo's warm body, not caring for the blue fur sticking to his clothes. Lio's cheeks hurt from laughter, his ears hurt and prickle with the tiniest needles of cold, but he doesn't want to go back, not yet.

So he talks.

"I'm so glad your second full-moon transformation went well, Galo."

Ah, yes. Such a wonderfully dry conversation starter. Way to go.

But it's not like Galo can answer him verbally, so it isn't really a conversation in the purest sense. Lio can blabber on however much he'd like to, and Galo won't be able to giggle at how cheesy and sappy he gets.

"I… I was worried that the beast might overtake you. I heard enough hushed whispers of that happening to some werecreatures that had just begun turning, I feared that possibility."

Galo whimpers and taps his head with a paw.

"After all, the beast is at its strongest at a full moon. But you did it, you overpowered it, and that should become easier and easier the more you do it."

Something smacks against his arm. Oh, it's Galo's tail wagging.

"I even gathered some wolfsbane to keep you away until you de--"

Galo interrupts him with a low growl, ears tucked to his skull.

Wolfsbane is a touchy subject, how could Lio forget...

Lio reassuringly pets him across his wide cobalt side, "Of course I wouldn't use it against you. Instead, I have it in my room so that it would be safe for me to stay holed up for however long you needed until the beast gives you back your consciousness and you wouldn't try to close me out of there."

Galo's ears straighten at that and he's no longer baring his gums, which Lio supposes is a sign their small, half-voiceless argument has been settled.

"I will never use it against you. I know how abandoned you felt, and that wolfsbane only made the whole situation even worse for you back then." And with that promise made, Lio scritches behind Galo's ear, smiling at him.

Galo is very expressive even when turned, Lio finds out. His ears twitch a wee bit whenever Lio speaks anew, attentive and ready to catch his every word, his tail has successfully bend downward all the grass in at least thirty-inch diameter around it after Lio showers him with tiny praises, he sometimes rolls around in the grass, slightly wetting the outer layer of his lustrous hide.

And he whines in disappointment when Lio stands up and beckons him to go back to the warmth and safety of their home.

Lio sniffs at him, "Galo, come on. All I have on me is but a thin nightshirt and a cloak, and the mist is particularly chilly this night."

Lio's about to tell him that the discussion is off the table, but Galo continues lounging on the grass and looking at him with those puppy eyes. Those damn irresistible puppy eyes.

Scrunching his eyes, Lio gives in.

"Tell you what. We can stay for a little while, but only if you keep me warm. I didn't come out here as prepared as I would like to be."

Galo hugs his small, almost human body with both his front and back paws as soon as Lio lies down onto him, cocooning Lio with warmth as he settles onto Galo's furry body. The throb of Galo's huge heart is right under his cheek, and Lio sighs, pacified. Turns out Galo's also like a huge fireplace, with fuzzy warmth enveloping Lio whole together with Galo's paws.

The pine rustles about them, its pitch sometimes rising to a howl, but Galo seems not to have the slightest care in the world. His hide is thick enough to store warmth radiating from his body and have generous leftovers to share with Lio, almost like an impenetrable wall of coziness that no jabs of wind will get through.

Lio can't blame his eyes for closing as he battles the flutter in his gut, the feeling he hadn't had overwhelming him in a long, long time. Galo's arrival changed the number of butterflies Lio needed to fend off drastically. Though it is a nice feeling, Lio admits, noticing how the butterflies moved to tease his sternum with the flutters of their wings. Now Lio is warm from the inside, too.

The quiet rumble of Galo's breath is the last thing he notes and the thud of Galo's heart is the last thing he feels before he falls asleep.

* * *

On the morning of the next day, Lio wakes up in the embrace of Galo's furry paws still sheltering him from the cold even in his sleep, sunlight slightly streaming through the clouds.

Lio blushes, comes to his senses a little while watching the dew being set ablaze by the sunbeams, and digs his cheek deeper into Galo's fur. Abruptly, Lio comes to the conclusion that this isn't so bad; the rhythmic thumps under his head must have been the biggest charm. Or is it the tight hug Galo's gotten him into, or how his ears swivel lightly on his head to the flips of the invincible chapters of his intricate dreams? Lio is not sure, but what he knows for certain is that he would like for this to last as long as possible, and not only for the pleasantly adhesive feeling of his heartbeat stuck in his throat. He falls back asleep to the homely cacophony of Galo's snores, hands weaved tightly around his neck and lips pressed to his strong jaw.

They eat their breakfast a little later than usual. Well, much, much later than usual, to be honest. Neither of them mind.

* * *

The moment Lio jumps out of the study and rushes to the kitchen with a map in hand while Galo's peacefully cutting up vegetables, Galo knows something is up.

Galo isn't sure what prompted Lio to do that. One second, he's agreed to, possibly fruitlessly, try and visit his friends left in the village after tediously looking for its name on Lio's map and the next he's straddling Lio's lithe wolf form, body bent down so as to not have wind slap him in the face and make his eyes tear up.

Galo hopes the sun-dried meat, a flask and a small satchel of coins will be enough.

Fine mildew of doubt spreads inside him the more he thinks about the idea. Galo is always raring to go, however, this time, he's hesitating.

But, Lio is there with him, a sturdy, supportive shoulder on which he can lean on in case of emergency. What's the worst that could happen that hasn't already happened to him?

...Wait, that kind of negative thinking isn't what Galo's all about at all. Trying to use it to cover up actual worries is only a temporary solution and not the best one at that, he had learned. So being teeth-rottingly optimistic was the simple remedy he had found out somewhat worked. Smile in the face of trouble, today, tomorrow and always. It was a simple, satisfying mantra.

Truth be told, Galo is terrified. Terrified of rejection from his lifelong friends. It's hard to imagine his life continuing without his parents already. Though, their family wasn't as healthy as, say, Lucia's.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't love his parents and doesn't miss them.

His father "liked to vent his anger at him", as Lio once said, though he didn't quite understand what Lio meant. Deep down, there was a tiny thought crawling around in the back of his head, that there was indeed something wrong with their family. 

Galo can't accept that. No way there was something wrong with them.

He must be deserving of his beatings if his father did that.

But, looking at Lio, at his gleaming hide, Galo remembered the rest of that painful conversation. If Galo couldn't trust his experience, the logical conclusions, the simple truths, then he could at least trust Lio's word on that. _It isn't_ _your fault, Galo_.

Those couple of months were like living a different life, a life in a haven not of this world. A lot of what he has learned has been set on its head.

Christsakes.

Noting that Galo's simmered down, pensive, Lio tries to get his attention with a short whimper, its high pitch barely hearable over the wind's howl. Letting out a particularly heavy sigh, Galo pats him on his head, scritches him behind an ear. "S'okay, buddy. I'm alright now." Lio's light forehead forms creases as if doubting his words. "Eyes on the road, wouldn't want you to trip over a sneaky root," murmurs Galo into the golden ear through the howl of the wind, "Just been worrying about all this. You'd probably say I should preserve my energy, and you're right. I'll try to keep my head clear."

Lio slows down a bit to give Galo an opportunity to take his mind off of his thoughts and observe the scenery; the mist gives them a wide berth. It's a simple, almost unnoticeable gesture, but it means the world to Galo.

The scenery is indeed wonderful, but it just cannot take an edge off of his hectic thoughts no matter how much he focuses on the light streaming through the mixed woods. Galo sighs again and leans in to murmur "you can go faster, thank you" into Lio's ear.

It takes Lio a few more minutes of trotting and picturesque views to restore his breathing to normal. Now that he has caught his breath and quickened his pace again, he is cutting through the mist like an elegant, lacquered shallop, making it try to scuttle away from him in tatters and not even giving it a chance to creep away in peace like before.

Lio makes quick work of the miles Galo trudged through from the village, but in the end, dusk still catches up to them. And they are both in need of a break anyway.

They sleep with Galo's cloak hemstitched with wool specifically for this journey over them both. Surprisingly, Galo insisted on Lio staying turned and warming him up like that. The logical explanation Galo gave was since Lio's senses are still more heightened than his thanks to animal blood, Lio would sense danger from far off. The actual, and the untold explanation, is that Galo wanted Lio to hug him and share his warmth the same way Galo had done on that day.

Lio nuzzles his wet snout into Galo's nose as he's about to fall asleep as if to say, it's all going to be okay. I've got you.

Mist covers them head to toe at dawn, stained peach, and continues to do so until its cut through by Lio who's hastily chewing onto his fair share of meat on the go as Galo's doing the same. Lio's hide is slightly wet because of the dew and high humidity, and Galo's rambunctious hair hangs low, soaked.

The village is close by, he can feel it. He double-checks the map just in case and steers Lio a little bit to the right, closer to that bubbly stream he used to love to play by. Is it the one? It looks like it's the one.

A couple of miles in that direction, and there it is. That old bridge, old as wives' tales, and the grassy, overgrown outskirts of the village that lie just after you cross the bridge.

The two of them settle in the tall, spacious bushes that surround the village to discuss their course of action. The branches poke at them from the sides but hey, it’s better than nothing.

"Okay, so how do you plan to do this?” asks Lio, quizzically looking at him.

"It's pretty straightforward. We wait for either of the four of them to come out of the village gates and then we attract their attention. Simple."

"M-m. It is foolproof, though the promise of waiting for what could be hours in these bushes isn't the most exciting perspective, but I came here to help you with this. I won't leave you to your own devices for the day until I see this through."

A sigh. A deep one, carrying the heavy weight of Galo's guilt and hope all at the same time. "Thank you."

Here goes nothing.

All they can do for now is lurk on the outskirts around where the bushes are thicker and the shadows are dark like fine licorice.

Galo's worries lurk with them, waiting for a chance to surge up again.

Trying to wade them off, Lio recites a couple of tales he memorized beforehand, from Galo's childhood favorite book. When they exhaust themselves, Lio dusts off the stories of when he, Meis and Gueira were wandering the world, searching for their place in life. Most of them come out surprisingly tender, and Galo can't help but curl up for just a little bit on Lio's knees.

After what feels like a hearty dozen of hours, a slight blink of pink outside is like a beam of a lighthouse, infusing Galo with hope.

"Lio, look, there she is! Right there, in the white dress, picking willowherbs!"

Lio nods, but Galo's restlessness attracts his attention much more than Galo's friend. He smooths a calming hand over Galo's shoulder.

"Right. I recognize her by the ponytail that is just like your stories describe. But I don't think it would be wise to simply jump out and run up to her. Your fellow villagers don't really hold you in high regard, and if one were to be with her there…"

Sniffing and rubbing his chin, Galo's brain cranks to work on how to best catch her attention. In turn, Lio tries to do the same. A few minutes pass and Galo's ideas are getting one more ridiculous than the other until he claps his hands together and dramatically proclaims: "Think a golden cat's ought to pique her interest?"

"A golden…?" Lio quizzically blinks his eyes in quick succession, then his face brightens. "Ah, I see where you're going with this. We won't know until we try, will we?"

"You got it! Please do." Galo's all but rubbing his hands together in prelibation as he sits on his haunches. Lio is playing along to his expectations, his wide sleeves flutter in the wind as he sweeps up, and somewhere in the air there is Lio's anthropomorphic body and the next moment, there is a puffy tail, perky ears and a small, elegant body that lands on its feet nonchalantly.

"O-o-oh, fancy," draws out Galo, impressed. "Now go for it, man, I'm cheering for you!" He pumps two fists in the air, then catches himself - he'll attract unnecessary location and give away their hideout! So he lowers both the fists and his voice and adds, quietly this time, as if Lio didn't hear him at first, "I'm cheering for you."

Galo can practically hear the sarcastic tone when Lio nods his head in acknowledgment and slinks out of the bushes and in the open.

Galo's heart is a rambunctious cacophony of an orchestra without a conductor as he watches the small golden dot traverse the lush green, closer and closer to the target. It looks like he caught Aina's attention because she's quickly approaching their hideout. The words are stuck in Galo's mouth. He forgot the tiny speech he rehearsed in his head a dozen times.

He never did that. Never had to think up a grandeur speech for any occasion. He could weasel out of just about any situation - well, until he lost his temper entirely and mouthed off - so he relied on that. The silver tongue wasn't his gift by any merit, but hey, as long as he could get out of a pinch with the least amount of blows exchanged or none at all if he tried to keep his head cool, it worked for him.

Aina is coming way too quick to think up something with the same emotional weight his speech had. Well, he'll do what he does best - make it up on the fly as he goes.

The first thing Aina does when she sees him is squeak in alarm. Then squeak from happiness, and Galo is confined in a bear hug so tight it rivals his hugs with how much it rocks his ribs back and forth.

“You- I- The hell! You dummy! Where’ve you been?!” she screeches and smacks Galo upside the head gently. Galo sniffs, his face scrunches up and he stuffs it into Aina’s shoulder, incomprehensibly mumbling as she soothes him with a hug and quiet coos.

By the time they both catch up, Lio has turned and comfortably settled in the shadows a little off from the cheerful conversation. Aina hugs Galo again and waves, climbing out of the bushes. Lio figures she wants to round every one of Galo’s friends here, after all, she wouldn’t let Galo go so easily. Judging by Galo’s stories, she doesn’t seem like the type to let somebody off the hook without a proper ribbing.

It is all a whirlwind of events, happy squeals, laughter and thunderous chatter as more and more of Galo's friends come to his and Lio's bush hideout. Word quickly spreads around, and soon, Aina is coming back with Lucia grinning following her right behind. A little after, Varys breaks in, unintentionally snapping a few branches in his excitement and looking sorry for being so careless with them. Remi sneaks in last, a few books in hand, but his face isn't stern like usual, which is a surprise, instead, the corners of his lips are upturned in a small, fond smile.

Lucia jumps up and hugs Galo by the neck, her tiny posture barely allowing her to do so. Varys smacks him on the shoulder in that friendly way that just narrowly avoids breaking any bones, but Galo barks a laugh and slaps him on the back, which only makes Varys laugh back and rib Galo about getting weaker. Aina hugs him by his arm while he's arguing with Remi on the best way to make cookies, she sneaks in a peck on his cheek that makes Galo stumble over his words.

It's so lively it warms Lio's heart. Ah, humans. He doesn't feel like he belongs, though. Lively would be the last word to describe him.

But then Galo stops midway through a sentence, whips his head around as if searching for something - or someone. His gaze thoroughly scrubs through the surroundings, satisfied only when it finds Lio. Galo's face brightens immediately and he waves to Lio, calling him over.

Lio still doesn't feel like he might fit in. But, Galo has made that decision for him.

Galo's got a hunch that he might.

The doofus points his finger at him and chatters away, giving a lengthy explanation of how Lio saved him just when Galo thought all hope was lost, how he lives with Lio now. By the time Lio approaches the small crowd, standing just to the side of Galo, Galo's shifted the theme of his story to how cool Lio is and he has a hu-u-uge library and such a wonderful laugh and Lio has to hide his face in his palms from embarrassment. That's too much praise in one conversation for him to handle.

But then a large, warm hand slaps him on his forearm and a voice rivaling Galo’s with its loudness proclaims, "Don't worry. It's the usual for Galo to just blabber on and on about someone, no need to be so embarrassed," and with that, curt and to the point, Varys offers Lio his another hand, "Varys." Touched, Lio accepts it with a firm handshake.

Galo jokingly flicks tears out of his eyes and sighs "they grow up so fast" as his friends introduce themselves to Lio one by one, Remi mirroring Varys' handshake, Lucia playfully winking and Aina hugging him. Lio finds Galo's reaction humorous, though he wouldn't want to point out in response that he's at least a hundred times his age and ruin Galo's joke.

"Oh, and this one time Ignis got caught in a trap Galo set up? Man, you shoulda seen how pissed he was!" tittered Lucia as Galo waved his hands at her, trying to interrupt her from telling yet another shameful story from his past. Lucia, tiny and agile, maneuvers around Galo and begins, "Aina, remember when Galo took your--". Galo charges at her, trying to catch her, and Lucia runs away with a squeal, egging Galo on jokingly. Remi huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose, but he looks at them goofing with an almost fond expression.

The rest of the day is spent with them munching on buttered bread and crumbs of cheese, exchanging anecdotes, silly stories and facts. Lio finds solace in how easily Galo’s friends accept him as one of their own, laugh at his fumbling, awkward jokes as the sun colors everything with pink for the second and the last time that day.

After tearful goodbyes and Galo reassuring everyone that he’ll be back before they know it, stuffing Galo's hands with the leftover fifth part of the head of cheese and another loaf of bread, Aina calls Lio to the side and hands him a tiny cloth bundle. Whatever is inside feels rough, like lots of tiny stems.

"It’s willowherb I’ve just picked today. If you leave it out for a little over a week to dry, it makes for a wonderful autumn tea." She is still a little shy, lowering her eyes to the ground once or twice, but her smile is genuine as she hands him the bundle and firmly grasps his hands. "Please, take care of Galo."

Her voice is steadfast and unwavering, it laces through Lio, hits him straight into his core so that he is uncharacteristically speechless for a few little milliseconds. Lio squeezes her hand back and ardently assures her that he will try his best.

They are all so worried for Galo, they all wish him the best and Lio will try to live up to their expectations. After all, his and Galo's friends' desires align in that regard -- to see Galo prosper and flourish.

Offhandedly replying that they have horses nearby, Galo waves his friends goodbye for what must be the fifth - and the last time, trying to usher them all back; it's getting darker and darker. They all come back to the village in a tiny, unruly crowd abuzz with conversation, worry and hope, occasionally throwing back a glance at Galo and Lio.

Lio does not turn back until he is absolutely sure they left. In one fell swoop, he stands tall, proud, lupine on the ground basking in the rays of dawn as Galo spares him an amazed glance, tightening the ends of the cloth holding the gift and provision together.

The way back is much brighter despite there being no light to shine their path save for the sliver of the moon and a couple dozen of handfuls of stars. Galo is almost glowing with happiness from the inside, murmuring to Lio how it all went so well and how he's so glad.

Infused with his joy, Lio's eyes shine like comet stripes adorning the night summer sky and his heart sings with love for Galo.

* * *

That day, Galo brought a hare as per habit, rubbing the kinks out of his body as soon as the carcass has been passed to Lio. The meat from the previous catch has run out, as Galo told him yesterday, rushing out in disappointment from the cold cellar-turned-storage-room, plus, it was time for Lio to feed again.

As Lio is flaying it, aims to once again cut off the fur away from its jugular, Galo jolts from the stove where he was stirring the eggs, bounces on the balls of his feet and drops the lid unintentionally with a loud clang. Lio raises an eyebrow as if to ask, what's with all the kerfuffle? Especially so early on in the morning. Galo usually waits till Lio is somewhat awake to raise hell.

"Hold on, don't drink its blood just yet! I, uh… I was thinking," stammers Galo as he picks the lid back up.

Lio's eyebrow remains raised, and he hums to prompt Galo to speak on. Thinking is a good idea, for Galo especially so, but there must be more to it than that.

Galo turns away, visibly fidgeting with the wooden spoon covered in little tidbits of eggs. Lio patiently waits till he has the courage to continue, busying himself with cutting away the fluff from the hare's saddle instead.

The silverskin and sinew come off unusually easily today; they tend to always make it harder for Lio, a match made in hell that lives for making trouble. Or, well, dies, Lio corrects himself as he looks over the carcass and wryly chuckles.

When Galo sets the plates on the kitchen table, now closer to Lio than he has been when cooking the eggs by the stove, he looks Lio in the eye. He wants Lio to know that this is a very serious matter he is going to be talking about.

"Lio."

"M-m?" Lio perks up immediately.

"You… You said a while back you will have to feed on human blood sooner or later." Galo pauses, leaving an opening for Lio to say something. To back out of this conversation.

Lio just looks at him, still confused, not a single word leaving his mouth.

Well, if that's the way it's gonna go down... No use mincing his words. "So, y'said that you will have to feed on human blood, and no wild animal blood will scratch that itch or something," begins Galo conversationally.

"Uh-huh. Indeed I have."

"Well… As I said, I've been thinking, and here's what I decided - you don't have to drink animal blood anymore. You could try mine, after all, I still have some human in me left."

Lio gapes at him. Then his eyebrows raise and take off high into his fringe. Then he blinks owlishly, again, and again. And once more for good measure. He takes in a full lungful of air, and speaks, finally, still flabbergasted, "Really? You're really ready to give it to me?"

Letting a vampire feed on one's blood is an act of incredible trust, after all. To think that Galo is so altruistic, cares about his well-being so deeply… Lio isn't sure for what kind of deed has he been blessed so wonderfully, but he wholeheartedly accepts it.

Galo's answer is simple. "Yep. I'm not sure about the specifics and all that but hey, it shouldn't be that bad."

Lio gapes at him even more, "Don't agree to something the rules and aftermath of which you don't know! And please, do not do it out of a sense of obligation. I wouldn't want to take your blood as payment for what I've done for you, that is just low."

"Nah. I want you to have it. Not as payment. Not out of pity or anythin' like that. I just trust you, and you're my friend who's helped me through a lot. Isn't that enough? And as for rules and all that stuff - you will tell me beforehand, won't you?" Galo's smile is bright and wide as he says that. Stupid, stupid Galo.

Galo shifts a little closer, looking in his eyes as Lio, on the contrary, hides his gaze, choking up. Galo notes that and offers his hand. Lio grabs it, holds tight. It takes him a little bit to snap out of it before he murmurs, "I... I just. No words in the world will be fit to use to let you know how much I appreciate that."

"Yeah. Yeah."

Galo isn't sure what that "yeah"'s supposed to be about. What's it supposed to mean. He isn't sure if that was a space filler, a mindless reply, a positive answer to something Lio asked half an hour ago to which he forgot to reply at the time. In fact, he isn't sure of anything anymore, except for one thing. Lio's hand is tepid and fits snugly into his own and Galo could just about sell his soul for this gentle weight on his palm.

"Um… You're ready to do it even right now?"

Lio's peering at him from behind his fringe, suddenly meek and wary, a lot like a rabbit hungry from an unforgiving winter. Like he's expecting Galo to retract his statement any minute now, Galo's mind helpfully fills in.

Galo's cheerful "sure!" erases Lio's doubts, however. Lio jerks up from his seat, managing to look both in a terrible hurry and having all the time in the world. It could very well be both, Galo supposes, judging by the veins shining through Lio's hands. He must be eager to finally drink the blood he must have been craving for some time, but he knows Galo's there for him and is eager to share, so there is no need to rush.

They walk out of the kitchen hand in hand, Lio leading Galo. As they stride across the halls, Galo absentmindedly wonders where's Lio taking him. The kitchen? No, they have already passed it just a second ago. The library? No, he has witnessed Lio's tenderness towards the books first-hand, he won't take his blood there. The bedroom? Galo's cheeks blush fiercely, but no, and his mind helpfully adds, _for now_. So, the only other rooms used by Lio are…

They pass the bathroom.

Well, that leaves only one option.

They enter Lio's study together, hand in hand. Lio goes straight for the commodious chair, seating himself in it with the air of a king taking his rightful place at the throne, and spreads his legs, an elbow placed on the armrest all the while Galo stares at the confusing display of power.

Lio smirks. Beckons him. "Well, Galo? Come here."

Galo finally sputters. "Whuwh-- How am I supposed to sit there, in this chair with you, if that's what you're planning?! It's spacious, I'll give you that, but it can't fit me as well!"

Taking him by the hand again, Lio rolls his eyes at Galo. "See, there's some space left between the armrests and my thighs. You can fit your legs there if you bend them at the knee, and then you can rest your behind on the space between my legs."

Galo isn't impressed with the idea, it doesn't look like a position he'd be comfortable sitting in for a long time, but he follows it through. "I'll be sure to think through how we do this better next time."

It's Lio's turn to be, yet again for this day, surprised. "Next time?"

"Yeah, duh. You need blood, right? Since I'm somewhat of a permanent resident, you might as well drain me a bit every once in a while. Or you don't like the idea?"

Bashful, Lio stammers, "W-well, no, that works well for me, it is an arrangement that is a dream come true, to be honest. I am just yet again taken by surprise by your kindness…"

"You better get used to it, then! That's how I am, fiery passion through and through!" scoffs Galo without any bite behind it. "Now, how were you planning to do this, exactly?"

Lio coughs into a folded fist, regaining his composure. "Right. Uh. When we're seated like this, I can almost reach the side of your neck. So, you just turn your head to the side, yes, yes, just like that, lay your hands wherever, and I'll take it from there."

Galo narrows his eyes, fastidiously studying their position, and puts his hands on Lio's shoulders in the end. That ought to do it. "Done. Now what?"

Lio shies away from answering for a little, hesitates.

"Well, now comes the easiest part for me and, arguably, the hardest for you."

Galo makes a concentrated face.

"I'll pierce your jugular a little, not enough to make you bleed out. I promise to take an amount that shouldn't be vital for your well-being, nonetheless, in case you feel that something is off, give me a few taps to whichever body part is closest."

"Wouldn't it be easier for me to speak or to shake you off?"

"If you shake me off, you risk having my teeth ripping out a huge chunk of flesh out, and I'd rather not. And speaking makes you move your throat, just a modicum, but it's enough to move the jugular and have the possibility of the punctures increasing in size and bleed way more than needed," tuts Lio.

It takes Galo a few moments to take all that in.

"...Yeah, think I got that." He takes a deep breath in and squeezes it back out of his lungs, slow. "Let me have a couple of minutes, and we'll be ready to go."

"Of course."

Now that he thinks about it, the study is just as Galo remembers it, books are strewn about and all that, except he's rarely seen it in daylight. It isn't as bright as it should be in midday, the thick drapes took care of that, but there is still a stark difference between diffused orange light of the fireplace, a single candle and jolly strips of sunlight sneaking through the drapes and setting the dust particles ablaze. The diffused light doesn't hurt Lio as much, so the drapes that cover the windows now aren't as thick as they would be on a cloudless day when the sun is at its best.

As Galo is surveying the room, comparing and contrasting it with how it looks at nighttime, he catches Lio's gaze lazily tracing the angles of his face. Just Lio's eyes are moving, not a tilt of his head, not a shift of his neck are present, and Galo feels like… like prey. But then Lio places his hands firmly down on Galo's shoulders, his movements become less animalistic, calculating, _chilling_ , and Galo feels the slight reassuring warmth of Lio's body surrounding him, reminding that he will be okay and Lio will get him through this with as much comfort as possible. The corners of Lio's eyes crinkle in a smile, and Galo thaws, returning the gesture as Lio's thumbs pet across his clavicle.

Oh boy, this is kind of intimate, isn't it.

Hey, no. No getting out of line, Galo reminds himself. Lio is just going to feed, that's all.

"Go for it," murmurs Galo.

Lio nods, and in a second his hand is circling Galo's waist and his palm rests in the juncture of his neck. It must be a little bit of ritual in of its own, getting ready for feeding, Galo muses as he feels Lio smell his neck, rub his nose against the pulse a little. A lick to his neck snaps Galo's focus back so quick he almost jumps in place, but Lio holds him tight and covers the expanse of his jugular with more licks. If Galo didn't know better, he would've almost called them teasing.

Galo grits his teeth through it, and just when he thinks Lio likes to mess around before biting--

There it is. Two sharp epicenters of pain right by each other, and Galo whines first from minutely getting scared, then from discomfort. Lio rubs his fingers in circles on the other side of Galo's neck, touch reassuring, calming, and that indeed soothes Galo somewhat as he tries paying attention to the touch instead of the pain, focuses on the way Lio's nails catch at his skin a little, raising goosebumps in their wake.

And then comes the new sensation. Lio's lips tighten on the bite, clamp down, and there's an audible gulp, Galo can even see the bob of the Adam's apple out of the corner of his eye if he looks really hard. Then follows the sensation of hundreds of goosebump herds migrating down his spine. Then the skin around where Lio's biting starts tingling. And his body is kind of sending him too many signals, Galo is unsure of what to do with them, so he just shifts his palm on the back of Lio's head and revels in the unknown with his eyes closed just to cut off at least one of the sources of signals that constantly contest for his attention.

For the next few minutes, Galo's surrounded by the intensity of it and the feeling of Lio's bangs tickling his skin. Not seeing any harm in it, Galo finds the back of Lio's head and cradles it with one hand and twirls one of the recalcitrant bangs around his index finger.

Lio's gulps are the only indication of time passing, the rhythmic thump of his heart pressed close to Galo's proof that life didn't still in the whole world. A suckle around the bite, a millisecond-long feeling of warmth of his blood on Galo's skin, and the next moment it's swallowed by Lio's hungry mouth and the gulp fills his right ear. Rinse and repeat. Galo's kind of getting lost in that cycle, but then another variable enters the equation - Lio's lips readjust themselves on the bite, and Galo gasps at that. Suddenly, he's all too aware of the fact that his neck is kind of a sensitive place, and Lio's mouth is there, pouring the warmth of his breathing over him. Galo has to clench his hand on the back of Lio's head and tangle the stretch of his pale strand of hair around his finger, anything but not to be aware that _Lio's lips are on his sensitive neck_.

Luckily for Galo, soon after, with the last slurp and a sharp, languid slide of fangs, like he doesn't want to end the feast just yet, Lio's lips let go of his skin, a loud pop reverberating off the high ceiling.

The bite immediately makes itself known by itching as soon as Lio's lips are off.

Galo should be feeling empty if rumors are to be believed, vampires suck out not only one's blood but one's soul as well. The only thing Galo knows is that he feels weirdly bereft, like he wants Lio's mouth back on him. Not necessarily back on his neck.

Galo gives himself unspoken permission to open his eyes.

Lio's face is so flush with life now, he almost looks human. His cheeks redden, his eyes are glistening, and his lips, oh god, the lips. They are swollen. Galo's wound itches again, and he feels it out with the tips of his fingertips and finds a love bite. Makes sense, Lio's pressed his lips real tight to his skin and sucked, those are the surefire ways to get one, but Galo's cheeks still tingle anyways. It is a thing only lovers share, and they are not that close, right? But the whole process is so intimate, a person's neck's an open playground only for their lover since it is one whole vulnerable spot; thus giving unrestrained access to it means placing the highest level of trust in the other person. And not only did Galo give Lio access to his neck, but Lio also left a damn love bite there, he must realize the connotations…?

Lio pays Galo's stupor no mind, his mind is keen on taking care of the bloodstains left on the expanse of Galo's neck and excesses that rolled down it, apparently. While Galo can't blame him, he still finds the fastidiousness and the tiny wet licks that leave chilling trails behind them endearing.

The swipes of tongue move lower, over the side of his shoulder, then Lio's tongue is diligently cleaning up some blood welling up in the hollow of Galo's clavicle. It's tickling in a good way, but Galo doesn't want to let his laughter free and squander this unknown, pretty sight before him.

And something clenches deep in Galo as he looks down at Lio tediously licking his clavicle out of the last traces of red, tickling him with the flutters of his eyelashes, too, something so tender, that without thinking, he lifts Lio's head by its chin.

A moment passes. Lio blinks up at him. His mouth opens, ready to ask what that is all about. But Galo doesn't let it do so.

Without really thinking it through, he just about slams his lips against Lio's, no grace, no finesse. They're soft like the duvet of his bed and cold, so, so cold, but the human warmth returns to them each moment that Galo keeps his lips pressed to them. Whether it's from embarrassment or from getting a good meal or something else entirely, Galo doesn't know. He stops on the former.

Opening his eyes a bit and peering at Lio from under his eyelashes, it is indeed the former, Lio's blush is rarely ever visible, but now it's in full bloom, just like Lio's rosehip bush outside.

But, what kind of embarrassment is it? The good kind, or the bad kind? Did Lio not expect this, is pleasantly surprised, has wanted this as much as he did, or did Galo overstep a boundary just now and Lio is aghast at his discourtesy? What if it is indeed the latter? Vampires are a pompous bunch not really known for their romantic connections, so it was quite foolish of Galo to think Lio will respond in kind, wasn't it?

Thoughts and questions rattling around in his head like panicked weasels, stifling each other out with worse and worse possibilities, Galo begins slowly, slowly inch his lips away from Lio's, clinging to them for as much as possible, looking at Lio from under his eyelashes, waiting for a reaction, an indignant shout, anything.

Lio just blinks at him owlishly, face unreadable. Then he places a palm on the back of Galo's shaved head, and gently applies pressure to it, trying to tug him back in. Softly enough that Galo can break free of the hold if he so wishes.

The hell.

No, Galo doesn't wish to break free of the hold, no way. In fact, he moves back in so quickly, his lips end up making a very loud, very gross smooching sound, and he can feel the small puff of breath Lio releases, a silent laugh. His fingers are carding through the short hair on the back of his head, and Galo is afraid to move, afraid to breathe, to blink, because if he does, he'll ruin the moment, scare it away, make it end as quickly as it has begun. Or he'll wake up.

The moment seems content to stretch on, however. Lio sighs, burning Galo with his breath again, and moves his lips against his. Soft, gentle, a warming presence, and Galo's brain straight-up capitulates. He tries to follow Lio's lead and feels Lio's lips tremble. He's smiling. _Lio is smiling while kissing him._

Galo thinks, screw it, doesn't let his thoughts of confusion ruin the moment and goes all in. He tests the waters again, moves his lips and gets a pleasant jolt of warmth under his sternum and another sigh from Lio, a longer one this time. Galo can't help but wonder what kinds of sounds he can make Lio let out. What effect will they have on him.

As Galo places a palm on his shoulder, smoothes it over the tiny crevasses in the fabric, Lio hums, a short little happy note, almost like a bit torn out of a serenade. Galo's heart flutters, his cheeks have long ago been drenched in blush, and he must look so, so stupid. But Lio is happy.

He made Lio happy.

A stray thought breaks through the mental blockade he set up. In hushed whispers and embarrassed giggles, a technique was passed through the grapevine, simply titled The Kiss. Some village kids called it gross, some thought it's silly, slobbering all over each other, and those older, a little more experienced in all things romantic, called it such an experience and shushed at the younger ones, calling them babies and telling them to go back to their mommies since it's way past their bedtime. Galo still thinks it's kind of weird and is sure that is just another part rumor part inside joke, the older kids had plenty of them among themselves.

But hey, if he's so bold, he might as well try it out while his guts last. The directions of The Kiss were unclear and varied from person to person, however, one thing he remembers nice and clear. It all begins with a little bit of tongue.

So Galo tries it out, heart fluttering and worrying. A simple kitten lick at those soft, lukewarm lips.

Lio's breath audibly hitches, and his fingers clench Galo's strands of hair between them, so tight they tugged a little at the roots.

Oh no. Oh no.

But then Lio comes back to motion just as quickly as he stopped, and gives Galo a little lick in the lips as well. Then he hums with a raise in his tone as if to prompt Galo to do the same thing back. Galo's heart pounds away in his chest and the warmth under his sternum is a full-blown, self-contained little star as he licks Lio's taste off of his lips, all copper and tanginess of blood, and places a bolder one on Lio's. Then one in the corner of his lips, interchanging swift licks and soft kisses as he feels out the smile blooming on them.

A simple hum is now ever-present in the kiss, the full version of the one Lio gave out earlier. Galo can't count the beats even if his life depended on it, he can't decipher if it's a waltz, something more energetic, like a polka, or if it's just a melody Lio makes up on the fly, but Galo can feel the slight vibrations of his vocal cords as Lio licks into his lips intensely, and it's just too much for him to handle.

He needs to take a breather.

Galo unsticks his lips from Lio's with yet another shameful smooching sound. He isn't sure when he closed his eyes, but what he is sure of is, when he opens them back, that he'd like to see this sight before him more. This exact one. It is a polar opposite of Lio's composed self, with fastidiously brushed hair and not a hint of life in him. And it's Galo's doing, he ruffled up Lio's fringe, brought warmth to his face with both blood and actions, as if Galo'd just told Lio a joke so good it had him giggling for a minute straight, only much, much better.

Lio watches the silly, silly grin that's on his face with hazy eyes, Galo's not sure if his gaze's like that because he's just fed, or because of the kiss, or because of something else entirely. He wants to ask.

What comes out instead is a dumbfounded, "What was that?"

Lio stares at him, just as confused as Galo is. He expected anything in the world but that oblivious question.

"What do you mean, “what was that”? Were you not the one that initiated the action in the first place?"

“I mean, I was… But…”

Lio’s sigh is drenched in disappointment. “I see. That must be the blood loss taking over your reason, or the mild dose of sedative that sometimes makes the bitten seek out contact with the biter. Don't worry, that happens to the ones that have just been bitten sometimes." He chooses not to elaborate on the reason he sounded so disappointed, or at least that's what Galo thought that note in his voice was.

"Nah, it isn't blood loss' fault nor is it the seda-thingamajig's," mumbles Galo, then catches himself, "I mean, uh-"

But it's far too late to take his words back as Lio stares at him again, attention rapt.

Galo tries to stammer out a sentence only to decide to say something else entirely and change it half a word in. Finally, after a minute of intense gestures, making faces and not managing to say anything coherent at all, Galo gives up and speaks in simple singled-out words.

"The kiss. Opportunity. I. Epiphany. Sorry."

Lio's eyebrows raise into his hairline. "Epiphany, huh. Care to elaborate?" He looks almost… Pissed. With a bit of confusion thrown in. He probably did not expect for Galo to even do such a thing and must think Galo is just teasing him. Lio being pissed at him scares Galo quite a bit, he wouldn't want to lie to dig his way out of this, but what if the answer is too radical for Lio to even consider?

Though the way Lio pets his head when he read him the books, the simple but flavourful combinations of vegetables in their salads that were tailored to Galo's taste, how he absentmindedly glides over his knuckles with a thumb, how he laughs at his jokes, and he accepts Galo's care despite the vampires known for their coldness… And he smiled during their kiss. No, this fuzzy feeling is definitely becoming too much of an unbearable strain on Galo.

He has to stop beating around the bush already. Now is as good time as any.

He's a damn werewolf with the courage of a roaring fire.

So Galo takes a full lungful in for good luck, raises his eyes to meet Lio's stare head-on. He doesn't need to separate his words any longer, but he does so anyway for them to carry more weight.

"I. Think. I. Love. You. Lio."

Lio's blinks rapidly after "you", his breathing stutters. And after all those words have been spoken out loud it's all happening too quickly, all too sudden. In a flash, Lio stands up and picks Galo up along with him and damn he kind of forgot Lio is so strong, strong enough to be able to pick him up; he has to clench his thighs around Lio's hips as he hangs on for the ride.

But it isn't much of a ride as Lio just gets them out into the center of the study, free of the book clutter and the chairs and the table and everything, and sets Galo onto the floor gently. Galo feels the solid surface under his butt. Lio's planning something.

Lio is just smiling, however. Not that loopy smirk he has when he's face-deep in a prey's neck sniffing at it, not the silly grin that breaks into laughter as Galo tells yet another dirty joke. It's a simple, happy smile. Just like the one Galo felt under his lips when he kissed Lio.

He outstretches his hand to Galo.

A thousand and one thought race through Galo's mind, but he shushes them all and lets his emotions take over. The emotions say should grab Lio's hand, like, right now.

And so Galo does.

A vampire's strength is unmatched by even a turned werecreature, and so Galo is standing upright again without needing to tense up his muscle mass. His mind doesn't get carried away with the thought of what else can Lio do to him with that power as Lio doesn't let his hand go and raises it with his, perpendicular to their bodies and places another hand on Galo's waist, light, and ever-present.

Wait, Galo's having deja-vu.

Lio's face is serene as he hums a little song, the exact one to which they practiced waltzing, and begins by stepping towards Galo, then to his left. One-two-three, one-two-three. Galo quickly catches on and follows him closely behind. They fall into the rhythm of the waltz seamlessly, and Lio closes his eyes and lets Galo lead despite being in the leading position himself, putting his head on Galo's shoulder.

Lio hasn't answered him. Not verbally, at least.

And Galo gets the message loud and clear.

His chest is blooming with light from the inside as they keep waltzing to Lio's humming setting the rhythm and the pace. Lio's head is a grounding weight on his shoulder. Galo is basking in the simple dance and body contact, in Lio's attention fully on him even though his eyes are closed.

"Oh, Galo, why, why. You are such an idiot," murmurs Lio into his neck, brain not quite caught up to the recent events. Lio still cannot believe this is really happening.

" _Your_ idiot," quips Galo at him intelligently, and Lio is so, so smug right now, he might as well be a cat that has eaten all the cream.

When Lio's humming comes to an end and so does their little dance, Lio leads him back to the chair, though this time their arrangement is switched around - Lio's ass brushes against Galo's thighs as he spreads them.

Galo isn't even sure where his heart is anymore now. As Lio holds his face in his palms with a soft expression and a warm smile gracing his lips again this evening, Galo catches his heart in his throat and his ears, fluttering like hummingbirds' wings, the ones that visited the village in the summer.

Lio's thumb rubs across his cheekbones, outlines the ridges of his jaw, boops him on the nose and slides down his cupid's bow, finally stopping on his upper lip. Galo bates his breath. Lio's eyelids close, translucent eyelashes fluttering down, and Galo is afraid to see what comes next. He closes his eyes as well.

The warmth is back on his lips and Galo almost chokes. He expected this, and still, the velvet of Lio's lips is so sweet, the thought that Lio is kissing him is sweet. Galo's heart is ablaze. Lio is the one that places a lick on his lips first, the touch languid and burning, and Galo can't help but respond in kind. So, so warm and sweet.

Their tongues bump just for a second, and Galo shies away a little because he can now taste a tang of blood and that was Lio's tongue and oh god. Lio presses it to his lips again insistently, licks them out in tiny swipes, and an idea comes to Galo's mind, so crazy it just might work. He opens up his lips slightly, more than needed if he were to slide his tongue out, and Lio falls right into that trap, his tongue catching at Galo's teeth. Galo feels a puff of breath Lio gave out, surprised, but he doesn't fall back so easily. With another insistent press of his tongue, Lio slips into his mouth.

A rush of the coppery taste invades his mouth as soon as Lio does. It isn't as gross as Galo thought it would be from the stories of the other village kids, and in fact, is quite the opposite. If Lio's lips were warm a few minutes before, now they are scalding, as if he has a fever. He might as well have it, because that's certainly what Galo is feeling currently.

Galo's heartbeat's an insistent staccato by the time he licks his way into Lio's mouth. It's in his eyes, in his ears, it swarms in his belly as myriads of butterflies. He feels out Lio's fangs, prominent in his mouth, and cuts his tongue on them no matter how lightly he tried to touch them. Lio gasps at the sensation of more blood in his mouth, and the kiss is even more intense somehow as he licks it all off, suckling on Galo's tongue.

They slide back to both breathe in some air and restore their breath, but Lio's head doesn't come back up, instead, it inches to the side, and his whisper burns Galo's ear.

"I think I love you too."

Galo knew the answer as soon as Lio twirled him in a dance, but hearing these words spoken out loud, meant for him and him only, so raw with emotions… His face flushes anew as Lio rushes to cover his burning face by hugging his arms around Galo's neck and hiding it there.

"I'm… I'm so glad the feeling is mutual," breathes out Galo into the crown of Lio's head and smiles a simple smile of a person in love and completely head over heels. Lio peeks out from his hideout under Galo's jaw, sees Galo's happy expression, the crow's feet around his eyes, and immediately hides his face back, chastely kissing the bite mark while his fingers are sneaking across Galo's hip and hold onto Galo's warm hand, embarrassed.

This time, it's Galo's turn to raise Lio from the chair, but in a bridal carry, and he twirls across the room, barely avoiding toppling over the stacks of books and toppling over himself. Lio's light hair is getting into his mouth open in an elated laugh, Lio's clenching his fingers into his chest and leaving nail marks in the skin, but it doesn't matter, because Lio titters together with him, dangling his feet in the air.

When they're both out of breath, Galo settles onto the floor, legs crossed at the ankles, and lays Lio down between them. Lio curls his side into Galo's chest, and that's when Galo notices the small patches of blood on Lio's crisp white shirt and starts fussing over them, but Lio is nonplussed. If left soaking overnight and washed in the cold mountain stream with a block of soap bought in the village, any stain darts out into the water like a shadow in a corner when a light is shined upon it.

Soon after, Galo is excitedly telling Lio about the little treehouse they are all planning to build together, him, Varys, Remi, Lucia and Aina, and that he might be absent for a few days since this is quite the project, and that Lio should come by and visit it sometime, and that they're all curious to get to know him. Lio is kind of zoning out, almost sleepy, absentmindedly rubbing Galo's cobalt strands of hair between his fingers and listening to Galo with half an ear.

A peck into his lips perks him right up.

A tiny, light kiss.

Does that mean that they are lovers now if their feelings are mutual?

  
Lio isn't quite sure what this all means yet, what is it that they have between them, but, looking at Galo's happy face, he's sure they will figure it out. _Together._

**Author's Note:**

> my last braincell: hHHnGhh monster au yes or yes  
> me: naw m8 i already have two fics in the works pls chill  
> me:  
> me: *prioritises this fic and writes it anyway*
> 
> This has barely any relation to the source material, but damn if it wasn't fun to disconnect my one (1) braincell and common sense and just write. This is unrealistic in every possible way even though I tried my best.
> 
> Sometimes, when my last braincell has exhausted itself and I'm translating from russian to english in my brain instead of thinking in english like I usually do when writing fics, there was this time I tried to find a good english counterpart to "нечисть", or "nechist'". Technically speaking, it's "evil spirits", but in a broader sort of way. Nechist' isn't just evil spirits, all sorts of monsters fall into that category; you could say a vampire is nechist', a rusalka is nechist', a werewolf is nechist', a vendigo is nechist', a dullahan is nechist', and so on. The only term in english that's close to nechist' is "spawn/creature of the night", so I went with that. Just a little cultural exchange tidbit for you.
> 
> There is also an obvious Blasphemous reference in there somewhere; if you're familiar with the game's lore, finding it should be a piece of cake. Esdras is a cunt, pass it on.
> 
> Feel free to hmu wherever if you have any fic ideas for this au ;3c Stay hydrated, lads!
> 
> [Tungle](https://tumblr.com/blog/cherishiggy) | [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/cherishiggy)
> 
> Update: now with [fanart](https://twitter.com/ChaiB33/status/1289480307263983616?s=20) from dear [Chai](https://twitter.com/ChaiB33?s=20)!! I'm still crying over how pretty it is, check it out 😭🔥 They did such a great job, I'm gonna keep it in the pocket close to my heart for the rest of eternity ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯


End file.
